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NOW   READY 

ZTbe  art  ot  tbe  tDatican 

By  MARY  KNIGHT  POTTER,  author  of 

"  Love  in  Art,"  etc. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  overestimate  the 
importance  of  the  present  subject,  the  Vatican, 
wherein  Michelangelo  performed  his  mighti- 
est works,  the  terrific  Last  Judgment,  and  the 
monumental  Prophets  and  Sibyls  of  the  Sistine 
Chapel ;  and  where  Raphael  painted  his  sub- 
limest  compositions,  the  great  frescoes  of  the 
Stanze,  and  the  exquisite  arabesques  of  the 
Loggie. 

TO   BE    FOLLOWED    BY 

Zhz  art  of  tbe  Xouvre 

XTbe  2lrt  of  tbe  National  Gallery, 

XonOon 
XLXiC  art  of  tbe  pittf  palace 

and  other  volumes 

j        L.   C.   PAGE   &   COMPANY 
I  Publishers,  Boston,  Mass. 


JULIUS    II. 
By  Raphael ;  in  the  Pitti  Palace,  Florence 


be  Hrt  of  tbc 
tDatican  «^  «^ 

Being  a  Brief  History  of  the 
Palace,  and  an  Account  of  the  Principal 
Art  Treasures   within    Its  Walls     ^    J'    J' 


By 
Mary    Knight    Potter 

Author  of  "  Love  in  Art,"  etc. 


Illustrated 


Boston 

C.    Page    &    Company 

MDCCCCIII 


/^^?V 


REESE 


Copyright^  ig02 
By  L.  C.  Page  &  Company 

(incorporated) 


All  rights  reserved 


Published,  October,  1902 


Colonial  $re00 

Eloctiotypod  and  Printed  by  C.  H.  SImonds  &  Ca 

Boston.  Mass..  U.  S.  A. 


Ipreface 


To  describe  even  superficially  all  the  art  treasures 
of  the  Vatican  would  require  many  fat  volumes.  To 
consider  fully  the  contents  of  only  one  of  its  many 
departments  would  take  the  entire  space  allowed  for 
the  present  work.  The  question  then  has  been, 
under  the  title  of  "  The  Art  of  the  Vatican/*  what 
shall  be  chosen  as  representative  of  that  art,  and 
how  much  room  shall  be  given  to  each  subject. 
Into  this  choice,  of  course,  the  personal  equation 
must  largely  enter.  Probably  all  will  agree  that 
none  of  the  galleries,  museums,  and  chapels  included 
here  could  be  omitted.  The  only  doubt  would  be 
concerning  the  exclusion  of  other  divisions.  The 
reason  for  ignoring  the  Library,  the  Egyptian  and 
Etruscan  Museums,  and  the  Pauline  Chapel,  may 
seem  to  many  difficult  of  comprehension.  The  pre- 
eminence of  the  sections  selected  being  acknowl- 
edged, however,  there  remain  but  two  ways  to  admit 
others  within  these  covers.  The  first,  of  course, 
would  be  to  devote  less  space  to  each  subject. 
That,  however,  in  the  opinion  of  the  writer,  would 

V 


54 


vi  preface 

be  to  defeat  the  principal  object  of  the  book.  If  the 
descriptions  were  much  shortened,  the  volume  be- 
comes little  more  than  a  bare  catalogue.  And  there 
are  already  plenty  of  catalogues  of  the  Vatican 
collections.  The  other  method  would  be  to  cut  out 
the  chapter  devoted  to  the  palace  as  a  whole,  and 
give  its  place  to  the  collections  above  mentioned. 
This  has  seemed  an  undesirable  alternative.  It  was 
felt  that  the  preliminary  account  of  the  building,  and 
the  brief  mention  of  the  part  it  has  played  in  the 
history  of  the  centuries,  gave  the  work  a  homo- 
geneity, a  unity,  not  otherwise  attainable. 

The  same  reasoning  applies  to  the  actual  paintings 
and  sculptures  described  in  each  gallery  or  chapel.  It 
has  been  thought  better  to  devote  as  much  considera- 
tion as  possible  to  the  most  noted  of  the  works  rather 
than  to  speak  more  briefly  of  many.  In  this  way  it 
is  hoped  that  the  book  may  be  valuable  both  for 
travellers,  who  wish  to  have  something  more  than 
mere  guide-book  information  of  the  great  treasures 
of  Rome,  and  for  the  amateur  who  has  not  sufficient 
time  or  desire  to  consult  the  many  original  works 
necessary  for  a  thorough  art  training. 

It  is  probably  not  necessary  to  remind  the  reader 
that  a  book  of  this  kind  can  be  little  more  than  a 
compilation  of  a  few  of  the  opinions  of  the  critics, 
archaeologists,  and  historians  who  are  recognised 
authorities,  each  in  his  own  field.     There  is  practi- 


^ 


preface  vii 

cally  no  room  for  original  research  or  criticism.  The 
most  that  can  be  claimed  is  an  honest  endeavour  to 
cull  the  very  best  from  a  tremendous  mass  of  often 
conflicting  opinions,  and  to  present  the  result  as 
clearly  and  succinctly  as  possible.  If  a  deep  personal 
love  for  some  particular  v^rorks  has  sometimes  led  the 
writer  to  give  undue  prominence  to  them,  at  least 
she  has  been  able  to  fortify  her  position  by  the 
equally  strongly  expressed  likes  of  the  greatest  of 
the  art  critics. 

One  thing  more.  Even  at  the  risk  of  being  tire- 
some, much  space  has  been  given  to  very  exact  and 
literal  descriptions  of  the  composition  of  pictures  and 
of  the  attitudes  of  statues.  Nothing  fastens  a  scene 
in  one's  mind  so  firmly  as  to  know  how  it  is  actually 
depicted.  To  discuss,  for  instance,  the  grandeur  of 
pose  of  a  certain  figure  means  comparatively  little 
unless  one  knows  where  the  figure  is  to  be  found  and 
what  it  is  doing  in  any  given  composition.  In  other 
words,  the  verbal  descriptions,  it  is  hoped,  will  help 
to  recall  more  quickly  the  picture  or  statue  to  those 
who  have  already  seen  it,  and  will  also  bring  it  more 
distinctly  before  the  mental  vision  of  those  who  have 
not. 

Guide-books  and  even  art  books  are  singularly 
silent  regarding  the  amount  of  modem  restoring  that 
has  often  nearly  remade  many  of  the  masterpieces  of 
a  bygone  day.     The  young  traveller  in  consequence. 


via  preface 

when  he  first  sees  the  fresh,  vivid  colours  of  frescoes 
and  pictures  and  the  unbroken  arms  and  legs  of 
statues,  must  be  greatly  perplexed  to  know  what  is 
of  to-day  and  what  of  yesterday.  For  this  reason 
efforts  have  been  made  to  give  at  least  a  general 
impression  as  to  how  far  this  work  of  restoration  has 
been  carried  on.  The  writer  is  particularly  indebted 
to  Wolfgang  Helbig  for  his  explicit  statements  con- 
cerning the  additions  made  since  their  discovery  to 
ancient  statues. 

Finally,  it  is  certainly  unnecessary  to  remark  that, 
in  such  a  volume  as  this,  it  is  practically  impossible 
wholly  to  keep  mistakes  from  creeping  in.  The 
writer  claims  no  infallibility  in  her  judgment  or 
selections,  but  she  sincerely  hopes  that  her  earnest 
efforts  have  succeeded  in  keeping  the  book  moder- 
ately free  from  errors. 


Contents 


CHAPTER  FAGB 

I.    The  Vatican  Palace i 

II.     Chapel  of  Nicholas  V 4^ 

III.  The  Borgia  Apartments      .        .        .        .      6i 

IV.    The  Sistine  Chapel 9^ 

V.  The  Stanze  of  Raphael       .        .        .        .142 

VI.     Raphael's  Loggie i97 

VII.     Raphael's  Tapestries 220 

VIII.  The  Sculpture  Galleries   ....    237 

IX.  The  Pinacoteca     ...•••    302 


Xist  of  miustratione 


PAGE 

Julius  II Frontispiece 

By  Raphael;  in  the  Pitti  Palace ^  Florence. 

Vatican  Palace  ;  from  the  Piazza  di  San  Pietro        3 
Leo   X.,   Cardinal   Giulio  de'   Medici,  and   De' 

Rossi 27 

By  Raphael;  in  the  Pitti  Palace,  Florence. 
SiXTUS  V 35 

By  Sassoferrato. 

Vatican  Library 39 

Ordination  of  St.  Lawrence  by  Sixtus  1 1.  .53 

By  Fra  A  ngelico  ;  in  the  Chapel  of  Nicholas  V, 

St.  Buonaventura 57 

By  Fra  A  ngelico  ;  in  the  Chapel  of  Nicholas  V. 

Alexander  VI (i^ 

Detail  from  Resurrection,  by  Pinturicchic ;  in  ike  Hall  of  Mys- 
teries. 

Demon  Women 75 

Detail  from  Visit  of  St.  Anthony  to  Paul,  by  Pinturieekio ;  in 
the  Hall  of  Saints. 

St.  Catherine 79 

Detail  from  Dispute  of  Si.  Catherine,  by  Pinturieekio ;  in  ike 
Hall  of  Saints. 

Moses   Calling   Heaven's  Vengeance  upon  the 

False  Priests 97 

By  Botticelli ;  in  Sistine  Ckapel. 

Baptism  of  Christ     ...•••.    103 

By  Pinturieekio  ;  in  Sistine  Ckapel. 

xi 


xii  %iBt  Of  iruusttatlona 

PAGB 

Design  of  the  Ceiling  of  the  Sistine  Chapel  .    iii 
One  of  the  "Young  Athletes"     .        .        .        .     nS 

B_y  Michelangelo  ;  from  Sistine  Ceiling. 

Creation  of  Man 121 

By  Michelangelo  ;  from  Sistine  Ceiling. 

Daniel 131 

By  Michelangelo  ;  from  Sistine  Ceiling. 

Last  Judgment 137 

By  Michelangelo  ;  in  Sistine  Chapel. 

Detail  from  the  "Disputa" 153 

By  Raphael;  in  the  Stanze. 

School  of  Athens 157 

By  Raphael;  in  the  Stanze. 

Portrait  of  Raphael  and  Perugino  .    .    .161 

Detail  from  School  of  Athens,  by  Raphael;  in  the  Stanze. 

Detail  from  Jurisprudence 169 

By  Raphael;  in  the  Stanze. 

Attila  and  Leo  1 179 

By  RapJtael;  in  the  Stanze. 

Incendio  del  Borgo .187 

By  Raphael;  in  the  Stanze. 

Raphael's  Loggie       ..•••..    199 
Story  of  Adam  and  Eve 207 

In  Raphael's  Loggie. 

Story  of  Joshua •       .215 

In  Raphael's  Loggie. 

Preaching  at  Athens 233 

From  Drawing  by  Raphael;  in  the  GaUeria  degUArazxi. 

Apollo  Belvedere 241 

In  the  Cortile  del  Belvedert. 

Laocoon 247 

In  the  Cortile  del  Belvedert. 

Head  of  Mercury     .        .        •       •       •       •        •    253 

In  the  Cortile  del  Belvedere. 

Crouching  Venus       .        ..••••    263 

In  ike  Gahinetto  delle  Maschert. 


5Lt0t  ot  miustrations  xiii 

PAGB 

MusEO  Chiaramonti 273 

Galleria  delle  Statue 277 

Venus  Anadyomene 285 

In  the  Gabinetto  delle  Maschert. 

Head  of  Augustus 293 

In  the  Sala  dei  Busti, 

The  Biga 297 

In  the  Sala  della  Biga. 

Transfiguration 3^5 

By  Raphael ;  in  the  Pinacoteca. 

Madonna  di  Foligno 309 

By  Raphael ;  in  the  Pinacoteca. 

Last  Communion  of  St.  Jerome      .        .        .        .313 

By  Domenichino  ;  in  the  Pinacoteca, 

Madonna  di  Frari 3^9 

By  Titian ;  in  the  Pinacoteca 

Annunciation 33 1 

By  Baroccio  ;  in  the  Pinacoteca, 


XEbe  Htt  of  tbe  Datican 


CHAPTER   I, 

THE  VATICAN   PALACE 

In  mighty,  irregular,  unbeautiful  masses,  the 
Palace  of  the  Popes  rears  itself  beside  St.  Peter's, 
its  huge,  angular  pile  almost  dwarfing  the  great 
cathedral  itself.  The  product  of  many  centuries, 
its  construction  the  result  of  many  differing  minds 
as  well  as  times,  its  appearance  from  the  outside 
suggests  a  helter-skelter  conglomeration  of  big 
factories  or  towering  tenements.  It  is  as  if  giants, 
standing  on  the  seven  hills  of  Rome,  had  played 
a  monstrous  game  in  which  walls,  windows,  por- 
ticoes, loggie,  courts,  and  roofs  were  hurled  down 
into  the  Borgo,  striking  where  they  would  and 
adhering  where  they  struck.  So  little  apparent 
plan  is  there  in  this  mountainous  pile  of  buildings. 
The  dull,  muddy  yellow  of  the  walls  does  not  make 
its  architectural  sins  any  less  aggressive.     In  fact, 


2  XEbe  Htt  of  tbe  IDatican 

outwardly,  as  a  composite  achievement  of  the  gen- 
erations that  have  lavished  untold  gold  upon  its 
building,  it  must  be  accounted  an  egregious  architec- 
tural failure. 

There  is  little  chance,  however,  for  viewing  the 
Vatican  as  a  whole.  Only  from  the  balcony  around 
the  lantern  of  St.  Peter's  can  the  entire  extent  of 
the  sprawling  mass  be  seen.  Practically,  the  palace 
must  be  studied  as  it  was  built,  —  piecemeal.  Thus 
considered  in  detachments,  it  shows  much  of  beauty 
and  interest.  Unfortunately,  the  very  worst  of  it 
is  that  part  seen  first  and  last  by  the  visitor  in  Rome. 
The  ugly  divisions  that  rise  at  the  right  of  St. 
Peter's,  over  Bernini's  colonnade,  do  not  hint  of  the 
loggie  about  the  Court  of  St.  Damasus  or  the  long 
lines  of  galleries  leading  to  the  graceful  Belvedere. 
These  fiercely  windowed,  jaundiced  walls  suggest 
the  many  real  beauties  of  the  Vatican  as  little  as 
they  proclaim  the  marvellous  treasures  of  art  col- 
lected within  them.  To  get  a  true  appreciation  of 
these  architectural  triumphs,  it  is  necessary  to  view 
them  not  only  with  the  eye  of  present  sight,  but  wtith 
the  eye  of  retrospection  as  well.  Even  a  short  and 
necessarily  incomplete  account  of  the  why  and  when 
they  were  built  will  tend  to  give  a  truer  basis  for 
opinion  as  to  their  worth  and  success. 
A  The  Vatican  as  it  is  to-day,  with  its  outbuildings, 
gardens,  and  grounds,  covers  a  space  equal  in  area 


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Zbc  iDatican  palace  s 

to  a  city  with  a  population  of  a  hundred  and  thirty 
thousand.  Compared  in  size  with  the  palace  alone, 
even  the  Colosseum  sinks  into  insignificance.  For 
the  Colosseum  would  not  quite  fill  up  the  ground 
plan  of  St.  Peter's.  And  it  would  take  all  of  St. 
Peter's  and  more  than  half  as  much  again  to  equal 
the  extent  of  the  Vatican. 

V  Roughly  speaking,  the  shape  of  the  Vatican  is  that 
of  two  separate  and  wholly  dissimilar  groups  of 
buildings  on  the  slope  of  the  hill  at  the  foot  of  which 
is  St.  Peter's.  These  groups  are  connected  by  two 
narrow  parallel  galleries  about  a  thousand  feet  long 
and  two  hundred  and  forty  feet  apart.  These  in  turn 
are  joined  near  the  middle  by  two  cross-galleries, 
dividing  the  enclosed  space  into  two  rectangular 
courts.  The  huge  edifice  at  the  southern  end  of 
these  galleries  is  connected  with  St.  Peter's,  and  is 
really  the  palace  proper.  Here,  within  its  vast, 
irregular  walls,  are  the  Pope's  private  apartments, 
those  of  several  cardinals,  the  Sistine  Chapel,  Paul- 
ine Chapel,  Borgia  Tower,  the  Stanze  and  Loggie 
of  Raphael,  and  the  Court  of  St.  Damasus.  The 
group  at  the  other  end,  made  more  beautiful  in  line 
and  mass,  is  smaller  as  well  as  more  homogeneous. 
This  still  keeps  its  old  appellation  of  the  Belvedere, 
given  it  when  it  was  the  summer  house  of  the  Popes, 
and  entirely  unconnected  with  the  palace.  Named 
the  Belvedere  because  of  the  lovely  views  from  it. 


6  Zbc  Htt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

the  windows  stijl  look  out  over  the  walls  of  the 
Eternal  City.  ^There  have  been  fabulous  stories 
told  of  the  number  of  rooms  in  the  palaceyincluding 
anterooms,  closets,  guard-rooms  and  the  like,  they 
have  been  computed  as  high  as  twenty-two  thousand. 
V  The  best  authorities,  however,  give  them  as  about 
seven  thousand,  with  over  two  hundred  staircases 
and  twenty  courts.  By  far  the  larger  and  more  im- 
portant of  these  are  given  up  to  the  galleries, 
libraries,  and  chapels.  The  Pope's  own  apartments 
are,  in  comparison,  most  insignificant.  *^hey  are  in 
the  east  wing  of  the  part  surrounding  the  Court  of 
St.  Damasus,  and  the  windows  of  his  rooms  can 
be  seen  over  the  colonnade  from  the  Piazza  di  San 
Pietro.  He  thus,  though  to  a  certain  extent  the 
prisoner  he  has  been  called,  can  overlook  the  whole 
of  the  city  that  once  was  the  capitol  of  the  Church's 
ti^mporal  kingdom. 

^  Viewed  from  a  certain  standpoint,  the  Vatican 
may  be  called  a  history  in  stone  of  the  rise,  the 
decline,  and  the  temporal  fall  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church.  Originally  built  when  days  of  martyrdom 
for  Christians  were  not  far  behind,  it  was  three 
hundred  years  after  that  it  was  the  scene  of  the 
greatest  height  of  the  Pope's  power,  —  the  crowning 
of  the  emperor  of  the  world  by  the  Pontiff  of  the 
Church.  A  thousand  years  after  that  the  same  office 
was  demanded  of  his  successor  by  the  man  whose 


Ubc  IDatlcan  palace  7 

ambitions  seemed  about  to  make  him  the  veritable 
ruler  of  all  Europe.  Since  then,  the  museums  and 
galleries  of  this  mighty  pile  have  indeed  grown  in 
extent.  But  the  priceless  paintings  and  tapestries 
within  have  undergone  the  inevitable  spoliation  of 
that  time  aided  by  zealous  restorers.  No  longer  at 
the  Vatican  is  held  the  dazzling  court  that  rivalled 
the  splendours  of  fabulous  Eastern  monarchs.  No 
longer  the  sceptre  of  him  whom  policy  must  keep 
close  within  its  limits  can  claim  unquestioned 
obedience  from  the  greatest  of  the  kingdoms  of  the 
world.  It  does  not  require  abnormal  imagination  to 
feel  in  the  dead  palace  itself  the  infinite  changes 
the  years  have  brought.  In  the  extreme  quiet  that 
pervades  all  its  vastness,  in  the  subdued,  noiseless, 
almost  furtive  air  of  its  custodians,  in  the  away-from- 
the-world  effect  of  the  whole  place,  there  are  num- 
berless hints  of  the  different  days  that  have  descended 
upon  it.  But  most  of  all  in  the  blackened,  dulled,  or 
villainously  rebrightened  frescoes  that  make  its 
chief  treasures,  does  the  change  appear  in  all  its 
glaringness.  One  can  dream  what  were  the  glories 
of  the  Sistine  Chapel  under  Leo  X. ;  one  can  guess 
how  the  Pinturicchio  golden  stucco-studded  ceilings 
gleamed  under  Alexander  VI. ;  one  can  imagine  the 
Stanze  of  Raphael  in  all  their  freshness  and  darity ; 
but,  like  the  temporal  power  of  the  most  ancient 
hierarchy  of  Christendom,  these  things  can  be  actu- 


8  Ube  Hrt  of  tbe  Dattcan 

ally  seen  no  more.  Perhaps  it  is  an  artistic  heresy  to 
suggest  that  to  him  of  vivid  poetic  imagination  these 
art  works  of  the  great  Renaissance  have  after  all 
in  some  ways  gained  by  the  ravages  of  the  years. 
Surely,  he  who  studies  them  with  the  sympathetic 
appreciation  of  their  possibilities  ever  before  him 
hardly  needs  to  see  them  as  they  were  fresh  from 
their  creator's  brush.  Perhaps,  even,  he  builds  from 
what  he  feels  are  wrecks  of  one  time  perfection,  a 
glorious  whole  more  wonderful  than  could  ever 
come  from  the  painter's  palette.  For  though  time 
destroys,  it  casts  a  glamour  over  the  past  that 
recreates  in  even  lovelier  forms  the  ruins  it  has 
made.  So,  in  looking  back  at  the  history  in  which 
this  palace  of  the  Popes  bore  so  large  a  share,  the 
days  of  its  splendour  and  omnipotence  linger  long 
after  the  wars  and  pestilence,  the  bloodshed,  the 
crime,  the  immorality  that  made  it  the* very  centre 
of  their  rioting  course,  have  been  forgotten. 

There  are  various  opinions  as  to  the  actual  found- 
ing of  the  original  Vatican  palace.  The  Emperor 
Constantine  and  St.  Sylvester  have  both  been  cred- 
ited with  its  inception.^  The  probability  seems  to  be 
that  somewhere  about  500  a.  d.  Pope  Symmachus 
built  near  the  ancient  basilica  of  St.  Peter's  an  epis- 
copal residence.  This  was  the  Pope  who  appealed 
to  Theodoric  to  confirm  his  election,  there  being  on 
the  field  at  the  time  a  rival,  Lawrence,  who  claimed 


Ube  Datlcan  palace  9 

the  papal  chair.  Not  till  Symmachus's  successor 
came  to  the  pontifical  throne  did  the  wars  and  blood- 
shed caused  by  his  accession  cease.  Gregorovius 
states  that,  having  in  spite  of  Lawrence  and  his 
adherents  kept  the  seat,  in  gratitude  for  b^ng  spared 
to  what  was  perhaps  not  a  blameless  life,  Symmachus 
built  and  adorned  many  churches,  as  well  as  founded 
the  Episcopia  on  the  right  and  left  of  the  stairway 
of  St.  Peter's.  Before  long  this  had  increased  to  a 
number  of  different,  if  connected,  buildings,  for 
various  churchly  purposes.  There  were  cardinals' 
apartments,  presumably  some  sort  of  treasury  or 
counting-house,  a  dwelling  for  strangers  and  Church 
dignitaries  who  were  passing  through  Rome,  and 
perhaps  even  some  kind  of  school  or  exercise  rooms 
for  novices  in  the  priestly  ranks.  The  name,  Vati- 
can, belonged  really  to  the  whole  region  about. 
"  Mons  Vaticanus  "  is  said  to  be  derived  from  Vati- 
cinis,  —  oracles.  And  it  is  stated  that  the  ancients 
used  to  receive  prqphecy  from  certain  oracles  there 
living  or  officiating.  This  Mons  Vaticanus  was  not 
one  of  the  seven  hills  of  Rome,  but  was  quite  outside 
the  walls.  It  was  here  where  Caligula  had  his 
gardens,  and  it  was  here  that  Nero  built  the  circus 
where  hundreds  of  Christians  were  put  to  frightful 
deaths.  According  to  Roman  Catholic  teaching  also, 
the  crucifixion  of  St.  Peter  took  place  not  far  from 
where  is  now  his  tomb  in  the  cathedrali/iThus  hal- 


< 


lo  Ube  art  of  tbe  IDatlcan 

lowed  by  the  blood  of  saints  and  martyrs,  it  followed 
almost  as  a  matter  of  course  that  the  greatest  of  the 
Christian  cathedrals  should  rise  from  tl|e  ground 
so  full  of  sacred  memories.  After  that,  though  the 
heads  of  the  ever-widening  church  had  their  palace 
as  far  away  as  the  Lateran,  the  very  needs  of  the 
basilica  demanded  some  sort  of  royal  abode  near 
by.  V  So  the  Vatican  grew,  till,  by  the  time  of  Pope 
Stephen  II.,  there  were  already  chapels,  oratories, 
mausoleums,  a  pontifical  palace,  the  presbytery, 
dwellings  for  canons  and  choristers,  convents  and 
monasteries.  Stephen  II.  made  additions  to  the 
palace,  and  less  than  fifty  years  later  it  had  grown 
to  such  proportions  and  magnificence  that  Charle- 
magne spent  the  winter  of  800  under  its  roof.  It 
was  at  the  end  of  this,  his  third  visit  to  the  city, 
that  the  Pope  crowned  him  Emperor  of  the  Holy 
Roman  EmpireV  In  three  hundred  years  the  Popes' 
power  had  mightily  advanced.  Symmachus  had 
appealed  to  Theodoric  to  confirm  his  own  election. 
Leo  III.  claimed  and  exercised  the  right  to  confer 
the  greatest  temporal  title  of  the  world  upon  this 
conquering  Prankish  king.  Almost  from  this  time 
till  the  return  of  the  Popes  from  Avignon,  the  Vati- 
can, like  the  rest  of  Rome,  was  the  scene  of  never- 
ending  /bombardment,  plague,  pillage,  fire,  and 
miseryy  In  846,  the  whole  of  the  city  was  devastated 
by  Saracens,  and  St.  Peter's  and  all  the  surrounding 


Ube  IDatican  palace  y^        " 

buildings  left  in  nearly  total  ruins.  Up  to  now, 
this  quarter  had  been,  as  in  the  ancient  days,  out- 
side the  §ity  walls.  Consequently  it  was  quite  at 
the  mercy  of  any  foes  who  chose  to  attack  it.  Leo  IV. 
put  an  end  to  such  untrammelled  invasions.  Under 
his  orders  a  heavy  protecting  wall  was  raised,  en- 
circling the  whole  region.  The  name  of  the  Leonine 
city  has  ever  since  been  associated  with  the  en- 
closure. In  Raphael's  Incendio  del  Borgo,  he  glori- 
fies the  miracle  said  to  have  been  performed  by  this 
pontiff.  The  wall  of  Leo  IV.  still  exists  in  part,  and 
one  of  its  towers  serves  for  a  summer-room  for 
Pope  Leo  XIII.  This  is  a  large,  round  chamber,  with 
a  half -spherical  ceiling  painted  with  the  symbolical 
figures  of  the  constellations.  One  of  these,  the  lion, 
has  two  stars  for  eyes,  which,  by  some  system  of 
lighting,  shine  and  sparkle  all  through  the  night. 
The  walls  are  so  thick  and  impenetrable  that,  while 
the  city  is  boiling  under  the  pitiless  August  sun,  here 
is  a  coolness  like  a  tomb. 

After  Leo  IV.,  internal  and  external  wars  rav- 
aged the  city  of  Rome  with  little  pause.  One  long 
line  of  battle  and  siege  after  another  raged,  contest- 
ing now  the  supremacy  of  the  Popes,  now  the  ancient 
rights  of  the  senate  and  people  of  Rome,  now  cham- 
pioning the  attempts  of  neighbouring  towns,  anon 
establishing  the  absolute  reign  of  the  German  sov- 
ereigns.    Whatever  the  cause,  the  Popes  were  in- 


13  Zbc  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDaticau/ 

variably  on  one  side  or  the  other,  till  by  the 
beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century,  for  very  fear 
of  life  and  possessions,  they  abandoned  their  ancient 
throne  and  took  their  court  to  Avignon^  Up  to 
this  time  the  Lateran  had  always  been  the  chief  resi- 
dence of  the  Popes.  Occasionally,  however,  when 
hard  pressed  by  enemies,  they  had  been  forced  to 
take  up  their  abode  in  the  Vatican,  that  being  better 
fortified.  Eugenius  III.  fled  here  for  awhile,  and  to 
him  are  ascribed  some  of  the  foundations  of  the  pres- 
ent palace.  Celestine  III.,  in  spite  of  the  troublous 
days,  made  further  additions  and  extended  the  forti- 
fications. It  was  by  now  practically  nothing  but 
a  barricaded  fortress,  and  as  such  was  subject  to 
attacks  and  sieges.  By  the  twelfth  century  it  .was 
in  an  almost  ruined  condition.  Innocent  III.,  who 
for  awhile  lived  there,  built  more  walls  and  towers 
to  protect  it,  and  is  said  to  have  employed  the  Flor- 
entine architefcts,  Fra  Sista  and  Ristori,  to  aid  him 
in  his  plans!^  To  Innocent  IV.  are  due  the  Gardens 
of  the  Vatican.  An  inscription,  says  Perate,  that 
was  preserved  up  to  the  last  century  in  the  garden 
of  Pius  IV.  related  in  detail  the  laying  out  of  these. 
Nicholas  III.,  in  1277,  also  lived  at  the  Vatican,  and 
his  additions  are  supposed  to  have  occupied  the  site 
of  the  Borgia  Tower.  Boniface  VIII.  died  here  at 
the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century.  Kept  a 
prisoner  there  by  the  Orsini,  who  believed  him  in- 


All 


Ube  Datlcan  palace  13 

sane,  it  is  more  probable  that  it  was  grief  and  rage 
over  the  triumph  of  his  old  enemies  the  Colonna, 
wjaich  drove  him  to  his  unhappy  end. 
V  During  the  thousand  years  of  papal  residence  in 
Rome,  invasion  and  bloodshed  /often  enough  had 
scourged  the  city  of  the  Caesars\  The  seventy  years 
following  the  transfer  of  the  head  of  the  Roman 
Church  to  Avignon  witnessed  such  a  devastation  as 
can  hardly  be  conceived.  Castles,  palaces,  churches, 
houses,  whole  streets  lay  demolished  in  the  dust. 
Cattle  were  grazing  in  the  Lateran  and  St.  Peteii^'s. 
ds  of  government  had  practically  ceased."^  In 
347  Cola  di  Rienzo  declared  that  the  Eternal  City 
was  more  like  a  den  of  thieves  than  the  abode  of 
civilised  man.  vAll  who  could  get  away  had  fled 
from  the  scene  of  desolation.  It  has  been  stated  that 
at  the  time  of  Urban  V.  there  were  scarcely  five 
hundred  people  left  within  the  broken  walls.  Amid 
the  wreckage  of  two  epochs  —  pagan  and  Christian 
—  Rome  seemed  no  longer  to  exist. 

For  many  hundreds  of  years  the  Lateran  was  the 
official  palace  of  the  Popes.  Vwhen  Urban  V.  was 
finally  persuaded  to  come  to  Rome,  this  palace  was 
too  ruinous  for  habitation.^  The  Vatican,  being  bet- 
ter fortified  and  protected  by  its  nearness  to  Castle 
St.  Angelo,  was  in  somewhat  better  condition.  Be- 
fore the  Pope  left  Avignon,  he  sent  orders  ahead/^or 
the  Vatican  to  be  made  as  livable  as  possible.^  In 


14  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

spite  of  hurried  restorations  and  renovations  the 
bare,  half-ruined  pile  must  have  looked  desolate 
indeed  to  this  prince  of  the  Church  used  to  the  royal 
magnificence  of  Avignon.  The  corps  of  artists  he 
brought  with  him,  among  whom  were  Giottino, 
Giovanni,  and  Angelo  Gaddi,  could  have  made  little 
impression  upon  the  hapless  heaps.  It  is  hardly 
surprising  that  he  did  not  stay  long.  Even  St. 
Bridget's  woful  prophecy  could  not  keep  him  from 
the  waiting  ease  and  joys  of  the  Church's  adopted 
capital.  History  states  that  his  chief  desire  to  re- 
turn to  Avignon  was  to  be  near  the  protection  of 
the  French  king.  He  could  there  better  wreak  his 
revenge  upon  Charles  IV.,  Emperor  of  Germany, 
who  had  manifested  an  independent  spirit  galling  to 
the  pontiff.  But  there  is  little  doubt  that  the  lux- 
uries and  culture  of  the  city  near  the  Rhone  had 
something  to  do  with  his  decision.  Rome,  the  den 
of  thieves,  as  Rienzo  styled  it,  could  offer  nothing 
that  was  attractive  or  stimulating.  The  Vatican 
palace  itself,  gaunt,  gloomy,  ill-supplied  with  even 
fourteenth  century  cornforts,  must  have  been  a  daily 
contrast  to  the  kingly  splendour  in  the  halls  at 
Avignon. 

%!  But  St.  Bridget's  prophecy  came  true.  Urban  was 
taken  sick  the  very  day  of  his  arrival  at  Avignon, 
and  died  nineteen  days  after.  Meanwhile  Rome, 
and  indeed  a  large  part  of  the  Italian  peninsula, 


y; 


Ube  IDattcan  palace  is 

had  grown  more  and  more  indignant  that  the  head 
of  the  Church  should  no  longer  be  in  the  city  of 
its  birth.  y/The  demands  became  so  vigorous  and 
imperative  that  Gregory  XL,  Urban's  successor,  at 
length  decided  to  give  in  to  the  popular  clamour, 
and  returned  to  the  Holy  City V"  Wars  and  inter- 
nal disturbances  prevented  him  from  doing  much 
in  the  way  of  embellishment  of  church  or  palace. 
At  his  death  the  magistrates  locked  the  conclave 
into  the  Vatican  to  select  his  successor. I^Outside  the 
walls  the  Roman  populace  thronged,  yelling  with 
threatening  cries  that  unless  an  Italian  were  chosen 
the  whole  assembly  of  cardinals  should  be  put  to 
instant  deatn.  Vknd  while  the  uneasy  priests  were 
debating,  a  fearful  storm  arose  that  bellowed  and 
boomed  through  the  shaking  halls  and  extinguished 
all  the  lights^  The  black  darkness  was  only  broken 
by  sharp  lightning  flashes,  and  in  one  of  them  the 
cardinals  saw  drawn  up  under  the  rafters  a  deter- 
mined body  of  soldiers.  In  consternation  they  de- 
layed no  longerv  Bartholomew  Prignano  of  Naples 
was  proclaimed  Urban  VI.  But  this  was  the  begin- 
ning of  schism  and  worse  disorders.  There  was  no 
peace  or  safety  for  the  Popes  in  Rome.  In  spite 
of  one  and  sometimes  two  rival  pontiffs  in  different 
parts  of  the  world,  the  Romans  continued  to  elect 
their  own  man.  They  were  forced,  however,  to  flee 
from  one  city  to  another,  pursued  by  enemies  both 


i6  tibe  Hrt  of  tbe  IDatlcan 

within  and  .without  the  Church.  While  Innocent 
VII.  was  Pope,  Ladislas  of  Naples  seizedyrtie  Vati- 
can, and  the  Pope  escaped  to  ViterboV  Later,  in 
14 1 3,  the  Neapolitans  again  triumphed,  and  then 
there  began  such  a  sack  as  recalled  the  days  of  the 
Vandals.  Finally  the  end  of  the  schism  was  the 
election  of  the  Roman,  Otto  Colonna,  who  took  the 
title  of  Martin  V.V  Before  him  Alexander  XXIII. 
had  built  the  covered  way  to  the  castle  of  St.  Angelo, 
thus  giving  an  outlet  to  safety  for  many  a  future 
Pope. 

Once  more  the  whole  of  the  city  was  a  fearful 
ruin.  There  were  soldiers  in  St.  Peter's,  and  wolves 
in  the  deserted  gardens  of  the  Vatican.  Martin  V. 
set  to  work  with  enthusiasm,  and,  while  he  built 
churches  and  monasteries  and  streets,  he  made  only 
enough  repairs  in  the  Vatican  to  l#ep  the  walls 
standing.  It  was  in  too  hopeless  a  condition  for 
residence,  and  he  lived  in  a  palace  near  the  Church 
of  Saints  and  Apostles .NiFrom  his  day  on  the  Vati- 
can became  the  principal  palace  of  the  Popes.  As 
such  it  was  the  centre  of  that  power  that  was  ever 
striving  to  grasp  the  world.  No  history  has  yet 
told  the  secrets  its  walls  have  known.  It  might 
almost  be  said  that  from  Martin  V.  to  the  time  of 
the  French  Revolution  no  event  in  the  history  of 
the  time  but  was  known  and  to  a  certain  extent 
influenced  by  the  mighty  court  assembled   there. 


Ube  IDattcan  palace  17 

Fearful  wrongs  as  well  as  unquestioned  virtues  have 
paraded  unafraid  beneath  the  shadow  of  its  protec- 
tion. Humanity  in  all  its  journeys  from  heights 
near  the  angels  to  depths  below  all  devilhood  has 
passed  unhindered  through  its  doors.  Vwith  Mar- 
tin V.  the  first  signs  of  the  Renaissance  appeared  in 
Rome.  In  art,  Rome  was  far  behind  the  other 
Italian  cities.  Not  only  did  she  produce  none  of  the 
great  artists  that  were  already  beginning  to  be  known 
beyond  her  borders,  but  she  woke  up  to  their  impor- 
tance only  after  others  were  claiming  their  work. 
Eugenius  IV.  continued  the  efforts  of  Martin  V. 
He  succeeded  in  inducing  Fra  Angelico  to  come  to 
decorate  a  chapel  he  had  built  in  the  Vatican.  Before 
it  was  accomplished  —  or  probably  even  begun  —  he 
died,  and  it  was  left  to  his  successor,  Nicholas  V., 
to  inaugurate  with  all  its  possibilities  the  Renais- 
sance that  was  already  making  Italy  the  queen  of 
the  world. 

Nicholas  V.  had  vast  schemes.  Books  and 
art  were  a  passion  with  him,  and  he  planned 
to  decorate  his  capital  till  it  should  be  the  envy 
of  Christendom.  Almost  immediately  he  began 
to  carry  out  his  designs  for  the  rebuilding  of  the 
Vatican  palace.  To  accomplish  these  designs  it  is 
practically  certain  that  he  tore  down  what  parts  of 
the  old  building  were  still  left  standing.  Some  of 
the  foundations  he  doubtless  retained,  and  Eugen- 


i8  Ube  Hrt  of  tbe  IDattcan 

ius's  chapel  became  his  own  oratory.  It  was  his 
idea  to  keep  a  plain,  almost  severe  outside,  the  better 
to  emphasise  the  richness,  elaboration,  and  luxury 
within.  It  was  to  be  something  of  citadel  shape, 
recalling  by  its  walls  and  towers  the  palace  of  Avi- 
gnon. A  triumphal  door  would  lead  into  the  courts 
full  of  rare  trees  and  fountains,  about  which  were 
grouped  the  buildings.  There  was  a  beautiful  thea- 
tre, whose  round  arch  was  supported  by  columns  of 
marble.  At  the  right  were  the  hall  of  the  conclaves 
and  the  coronation,  with  two  smaller  halls  and  the 
apostolic  treasury.  Below  this  the  immense  Gallery 
of  the  Benediction  opened  its  windows  toward  the 
Castle  of  St.  Angelo.  Upon  the  left  a  large  chapel 
with  arched  roof,  which  may  be  said  to  be  th6  Sis- 
tine,  was  entered  by  a  vestibule.  In  mounting 
toward  the  extremity  of  the  palace,  "one  entered  a 
large  building  of  the  library,  lighted  by  windows  on 
two  sides.  A  little  beyond  was  another  court,  and 
then  the  kitchens  and  stables.  The  apartments  of 
the  Pope  and  the  apostolic  rooms  looked  upon  the 
first  court.  Perate  quotes  Manetti  as  saying  that 
the  ground  floor  was  used  in  summer,  that  above  in 
winter,  and  the  next  for  spring  and  autumn.  The 
plan  for  this  is  said  to  be  that  of  Alberti.  Before 
these  immense  designs  had  begun  to  be  realised  in 
wood  and  masonry,  Nicholas  died.  The  only  parts 
of  the  present  palace  unquestionably  his  are  the 


XCbe  IDatican  palace  19 

buildings  immediately  surrounding  the  Court  of  the 
Papagallo,  including  the  Borgia  wing.  Behind  the 
loggie  of  Bramante,  the  stanze,  which  Raphael 
afterward  painted,  served  as  the  apartments  of 
Nicholas.  These  were  first  decorated  with  works  at 
least  ordered  during  his  life.  Buonfigli  da  Perugia, 
one  of  the  masters  of  Perugino,  Bartolommeo  da 
Foligno,  Simone  di  Viterbe,  Andrea  del  Castagno, 
and  Piero  della  Francesca,  were  among  the  artists 
employed.  Francesca's  works  were  once  where  now 
one  sees  the  Miracle  of  Bolsena.  They  were  his- 
torical compositions  full  of  contemporaneous  por- 
traits, among  which  were  Charles  VII.  of  France, 
Cardinal  Bessarion,  Prince  of  Palermo,  and  Nich- 
olas Fortebraccio.  Higher  than  all  other  artists  in 
the  favour  of  the  Pope  stood  Fra  Angelico.^^y 
some  miracle  of  oversight  or  unexpected  discrimina- 
tion the  exquisite  paintings  in  the  studio  of  Nicholas 
are  still  intact,  a  joy  for  all  beholders  even  to  the 
present  day.  j^ 
y^  Besides  with  the  work  of  architect  and  painter, 
Nicholas  V.  filled  his  palace  with  exquisite  stained 
glass,  with  rare  marbles,  wonderful  illuminations, 
embroidery,  and  sculptures.  He  sent  to  Venice  and 
Florence  and  still  farther  afield  for  every  kind  of 
art  product  that  would  help  to  make  his  palace  the 
most  beautiful  in  the  world.  He  practically  founded 
the  Vatican  library,^  and  his  court  became  famous 


20  ubc  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

for  the  historians,  poets,  engineers,  architects,  paint- 
ers, sculptors,  and  writers  that  filled  his  audience 
halls.  Flemish  tapestry  had  already  excited  much 
admiration  by  its  brilliant  colouring,  and  Nicholas 
established  the  first  school  of  Roman  tapestry 
weavers  in  the  palace  itself,  under  the  direction  of 
the  Frenchman,  Reginald  de  Maincourt.    V 

After  his  death  Calixtus  III.  began  an  entirely 
different  regime.  Poets,  and  painters,  architects, 
and  engineers,  were  no  longer  in  demand.  All  work 
toward  the  completion  of  the  Vatican  was  stopped. 
Calixtus  did  not  hesitate  to  follow  to  the  letter 
his  conviction  that  the  regal  appurtenances  of  his 
predecessor  were  so  many  wiles  of  the  Prince  of 
Darkness,  entirely  out  of  character  for  him  whd  was 
the  successor  of  the  fisherman  apostle. 

Pius  II.  had  no  such  ascetic  views  as  to  the  rights 
and  privileges  of  the  See  of  Rome.  He  built  a  tower 
which  commanded  a  door  of  entrance  to  the  Vatican, 
and  completed  some  of  the  unfinished  rooms  of 
Nicholas  V. 

His  successor,  Paul  II.,  was  accused  of  being  a 
mere  '*  commercial  "  by  the  literati  of  his  day.  His 
principal  desire  was  to  conquer  the  Mussulmans.  In 
waging  war  against  them  he  had  little  time  left  to 
carry  on  the  artistic  schemes  of  Nicholas  V.  At 
the  Vatican,  however,  he  built  a  fagade  of  three 
stories  which,  though  it  had  disappeared  by  the  time 


Ubc  Dattcan  Ipalace  21 

of  Paul  v.,  served  as  model  for  Bramante  for  his 
noble  Court  of  St.  Damasus. 

By  1470  the  Renaissance  could  show  such  names 
as  Brunelleschi,  San  Gallo,  Ghiberti,  Donatello,  Ver- 
rocchio,  Pollajuolo,  Delia  Robbia,  Rossellino,  Mino 
da  Fiesole,  Masolino,  Masaccio,  Castagno,  Melozzo 
da  Forli,  Gentile  Fabriano,  Benozzo  Gozzoli,  and 
Fra  Lippo  Lippi.  It  was  not  the  capital  of  the 
Christian  world,  however,  that  knew  them  best,  or 
most  encouraged  their  works.  Since  Nicholas  V. 
Rome  had  fallen  far  behind  Florence  or  Siena  or 
even  minor  towns  in  all  advancement  of  art. 
/Sixtus  IV.  came  to  the  papal  throne  in  1471,  and 
with  him  begins  a  new  era.  If  Rome  could  not 
produce  native  artists,  at  least  she  could  adopt  those 
of  more  fortunate  regions.  So  intensely  interested 
was  Sixtus  IV.  in  this  art  advancement  that  he  has 
been  said  to  occupy  to  the  development  of  the  Re- 
naissance in  Rome  a  position  similar  to  that  of 
Lorenzo  de'  Medici  in  Florence.  ^At  the  Vatican  he 
continued  the  work  of  rebuilding  and  restoring,  fol- 
lowing largely  the  plan  of  Nicholas  V.  The  palace 
at  this  date  was  an  irregular  quadrilateral  triangle, 
inclosing  the  Court  of  the  Papagallo  and  joining  by 
the  Loggie  of  the  Benediction  with  the  vestibule  of 
St.  Peter's.  This,  the  ground  floor  of  the  principal 
building,  was  below  the  rooms  which  make  the 
Borgia  apartments.     They  were  under  the  Raphael 


2a  Ubc  Hrt  ot  tbe  Vatican 

rcx)ms,  where  Sixtus  IV.  had  his  library.  Contem- 
porary accounts  state  the  architectural  works  of 
this  pontiff  to  be  of  considerable  extent  and  beauty, 
and  they  praise  the  magnificence  of  their  decora- 
tions. Melozzo  da  Forli  was  the  head  of  a  school 
of  painters  whom  Sixtus  IV.  had  persuaded  to  come 
to  Rome,  and  it  was  to  him  the  Pope  gave  the  dec- 
oration of  his  library.  That  part  of  the  Vatican 
most  intimately  associated  with  Sixtus  IV.  is  the 
Sistine  Chapel.  This  was  finished  even  to  its  side 
frescoes  during  his  pontificate,  and  has  ever  since 
borne  its  founder's  name. 

It  was  during  the  pontificate  of  Innocent  VIII. 
that  Granada  was  finally  wrested  from  the  Moors, 
and  it  was  near  the  end  of  his  life  that  Columbus  set 
out  on  his  great  journey.  If  he  did  not  continue  in 
quite  the  lavish  way  of  his  predecessor,  at  least  he 
left  substantial  additions  to  the  papal  palace.  His 
part  of  the  building  is  more  or  less  mixed  up  with 
the  constructions  of  Paul  II.,  and  there  have  been 
many  discussions  what  to  ascribe  to  each.  It  seems 
probable,  however,  that  the  large  division  of  the 
building  where  the  door  of  the  palace  connects  with 
the  Loggie  of  the  Benediction,  belongs  to  the  time 
of  Paul  II.  This  is  where  he  put  his  arms.  Inno- 
cent VIII.  restored  the  door,  and  continued  the 
large  facade  by  an  edifice  which  makes  a  right  angle, 
overlooking  on  one  side  the  Square  of  St.  Peter's, 


XTbe  IDattcan  palace  33 

and  on  the  other  the  court  of  entrance  of  the  palace. 
This  fagade,  which  was  after  the  st3/le  of  the  Palace 
of  St.  Mark,  was  of  much  inferior  beauty  to  the 
Lx>ggie  of  the  Benediction.  It,  as  well  as  the  great 
hall  which  Innocent  VIII.  finished,  was  destroyed 
to  make  place  for  the  new  St.  Peter's  in  1610. 
^^What  does  remain  as  a  monument  to  Inno- 
cent VIII.  is  the  Villa  Belvedere.'^  This  is  probably 
almost  wholly  of  his  pontificate.  At  that  time  it 
was  built  for  a  summer  home,  and  was  some  distance 
from  the  palace.  Vasari  and  others  have  given  Pol- 
lajuolo  as  his  architect.  Miintz  says,  however,  that 
trustworthy  documents  ascribe  it  to  Jacopo  da  Pietra- 
santa.  It  is  said  to  have  cost  sixty  thousand  ducats. 
^  Mantegna  did  most  of  the  interior  decorations.  A 
story  is  told  that  the  Pope,  often  being  behindhand 
with  Mantegna's  just  pay,  the  artist  determined  to 
teach  him  a  lesson.  So  the  Pope  one  day  found  him 
at  work  upon  a  figure  whose  meaning  he  could  not 
guess. 

"  Who  is  she  ?  "  he  asked,  curiously. 

"  That,"  replied  Mantegna,  with  covert  emphasis, 
"  is  Economy,  your  Holiness." 

"  Ah !  "  answered  Innocent,  "  then  paint  next  to 
her  Patience,  Mantegna."  But  it  is  said  that  after 
this  the  artist's  money  was  promptly  ready.  J 

His  works  here,  as  well  as  his  frescoes  in  a  chapel 
of  the  Vatican,  have  all  perished.    Gone,  too,  are 


24  Ube  Hrt  of  tbe  Datican 

the  floors  in  the  Belvedere  that  were  made  of  tiles 
from  the  workshop  of  the  Delia  Robbia. 

It  was  in  this  Belvedere  that  Alexander  VI.  kept 
prisoner  Catherine  Sforza,  ex-sovereign  of  Forli, 
and  it  was  in  one  of  the  rooms  of  the  Borgia  apart- 
ments that  he  himself  died  a  terrible  death,  a  death 
generally  believed  to  have  been  caused  by  the  poison 
he  had  meant  for  another. 

Apologists  for  Alexander  VI.  lay  great  stress 
upon  his  patronage  of  the  arts,  many  of  them,  like 
Miintz,  claiming  that  posterity  actually  owes  him 
a  debt  of  gratitude  for  the  encouragement  he  gave 
to  the  genius  of  Bramante,  San  Gallo,  Perugino, 
Pinturicchio,  Caradosso,  Michelangelo.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  he  seized  with  avidity  upon  any  'artist 
who  was  capable  of  adding  to  the  external  glory 
of  a  reign  almost  unparalleled  for  its  outward  mag- 
nificence. But  indeed  all  Italy  was  fairly  throbbing 
with  the  joy  of  her  awakening  from  the  long  sleep 
of  art.  Princes,  potentates,  and  even  merchants  vied 
with  one  another  in  their  efforts  to  secure  the  ser- 
vices of  new  stars  in  the  firmament  of  sculptors, 
painters,  and  architects.  In  those  eager  days  any 
real  talent  was  most  unlikely  to  die  neglected.  It 
would  have  been  extraordinary  if  the  luxuiy-loving 
Pope,  he  whose  very  vices  required  the  richest  of 
accessories,  had  not  followed  in  the  lead  of  the  nobles 
of  Florence,  Venice,  Milan,  and  Verona.    And  after 


Ubc  IDattcan  palace  25 

all  is  said,  Alexander  VI.  completed  and  added  to 
the  works  of  his  predecessors  rather  than  created 
new.  At  the  Vatican  the  only  part  wholly  of  his 
era  is  the  Borgia  Tower.  The  so-called  Apparta- 
menta  Borgia  belongs  to  Nicholas  V.  Under  Alex- 
ander it  was  merely  finished  and  decorated.  And 
though  the  Pinturicchio  frescoes  are  among  the 
priceless  treasures  of  the  palace,  yet,  as  has  been 
truly  said,  too  much  of  such  style  of  decoration 
would  have  ended  in  the  death  of  painting.  The 
Oriental  voluptuousness  of  the  Pope  showed  itself 
in  the  excesses  he  demanded  in  gold,  ornament,  and 
scintillating  colour.  A  little  of  such  bravura  of 
embroidery  is  permissible  even  in  highest  art.  Be- 
yond this,  it  becomes  merely  cloying  and  degenerate. 
y'  Under  Julius  II.,  nephew  of  Sixtus  IV.,  began 
the  greatest  period  in  the  histoty  of  the  Vatican.  To 
him  and  to  his  follower,  Leo  X.,  are  due  the  larger 
part  of  the  marvellous  works  of  art  that  to-day 
still  make  the  Vatican  palace  the  most  wonderful 
museum  in  the  world.  It  was  Julius  II.  who  com- 
manded Bramante  to  join  the  palace  to*  the  Belve- 
dere, who  ordered  Michelangelo  to  paint  the  ceiling 
of  the  Sistine  Chapel,  and  who  set  Raphael  at  work 
on  the  Stanze.  ^y 

Bramante's  plan  for  making  the  Belvedere  a  part 
of  the  Vatican  proper  was  simple,  dignified,  and 
rational.     If  it  had  been  allowed  to  remain  as  he 


26  Ubc  Hrt  of  tbe  IDattcan 

designed  it,  the  mass  of  buildings  under  the  one 
name  would  be  so  much  the  gainer  in  coherency  and 
charm.  He  threw  out  two  long,  parallel  galleries 
joining  the  Villa  at  one  end,  the  Vatican  at  the 
other.  These  two  powerful  lines  were  three  stories 
high,  each  story  an  arcade  whose  columns  and  pil- 
lars circled  the  immense  court  that  to-day  is  cut 
by  the  Library  and  Museum. 

Julius  11.  at  first  lived  in  the  Borgia  Apartment. 
Tiring,  likely  enough,  of  for  ever  seeing  the  image 
of  his  predecessor,  he  decided  to  move  into  the  story 
above,  which  had  been-  the  ^art  used  by  Nicholas 
V.  These  rooms,  decorated  by  artists  of  the  earlier 
Renaissance,  he;  ruthlessly  ordered  entirely  ref res- 
coed.  OL  alK the- works  he  saved  only  the.  little 
Chapel  of  Fra  Angelico,  where,  each  morning,  he 
celebrated  his  massN  By  1508  a  whole  colony  of 
painters  was  installed  in  the  venerable  apartment. 
Signorelli,  Perugino,  Sodoma,  Bramantino,  Peruzzi, 
Lorenzo  Lotto,  and  the  Flemish  Jean  Ruysch  were 
hard  at  work  covering  walls  and  ceiling.  Then,  sud- 
denly, Raphael,  who  was  working  by  Perugino's 
side,  stepped  into  fame  at  one  bound.  All  the  others 
were  dismissed,  and  to  him  alone  was  confided  the 
whole  work.     V 

Not  till  the  very  end  of  the  fifteenth  century  did 
a  passion  for  the  antique  begin  to  be  felt  in  Rome. 
In  Florence  the  Medicean  collection  of  ancient  sculp- 


LEO    X.,    CARDINAL   GIULIO    DE'    MEDICI,    AND    DE'   ROSSI 
By  Raphael ;  in  the  Pitti  Palace,  Florence 


V9^     OF  THE       ^r 

UNIVERSITY 


Ube  IDattcan  palace  29 

tures  were  in  existence  long  before  any  such  effort 
was  made  in  the  city  of  the  Church.  Sixtus  IV. 
did  open  a  museum  of  antique  bronzes,  and  Inno- 
cent VIII.  added  some  newly  found  works  in  brass 
and  a  colossal  head  of  Commodus.  From  then  till 
Julius  II.  no  attempt  was  made  to  increase  these 
relics  of  the  past.  While  Julius  was  still  cardinal 
he  came  into  possession  of  a  recently  discovered 
Apollo,  and  when  he  became  Pope  he  had  it  put 
into  the  Cortile  di  Belvedere.  This  court,  about 
one  hundred  feet  square,  was  laid  out  as  a  garden 
with  orange-trees  and  running  streams.  Bramante 
designed  semicircular  niches  for  the  statues  that 
from  then  on  were  placed  there.  It  was  the  begin- 
ning of  the  famous  sculpture  gallery  that  so  excited 
Napoleon's  admiration  and  greed. 

Leo  X.  added  to  the  sculptures  in  the  Vatican 
Garden,  and  went  on  with  the  great  plans  of  Julius 
II.  for  the  beautifying  of  the  palace.  Among  other 
constant  demands  upon  Raphael  he  ordered  him 
to  make  cartoons  for  tapestry  which  was  to  be  hung 
around  the  walls  of  the  Sistine  Chapel  below  the 
paintings.  Raphael  also  built  on  to  the  Bramante 
loggie  a  third  story  above  the  two  already  completed, 
and  made  the  facade  to  the  old  pontifical  palace. 

Into  the  midst  of  all  these  wonder-works  of  art, 
despoiling  the  hard-won  triumphs  of  generations, 
overturning,   breaking,   ruining  precious  gems  no 


30  Ube  Brt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

after  efforts  could  replace,  came  the  destroyer  from 
the  north.  Under  Friindesberg  and  De  Bourbon, 
the  Germans  and  the  Spaniards  descended  upon 
Rome  with  the  fury  of  the  Vandals  of  old.  The 
Pope,  Clement  VII.,  was  forced  to  flee  to  St.  Angelo 
with  his  cardinals,  prelates,  and  household,  and  there 
for  seven  long  months  he  watched  the  destruction  of 
his  city.  Houses  were  razed,  churches  and  convents 
stripped  of  vases  and  vestments;  relics,  tiaras, 
chasubles,  tabernacles,  chalices  ornamented  by  the 
great  artists  of  the  fifteenth  century,  tapestries,  pic- 
tures, sculptures,  manuscripts,  —  all  were  broken, 
torn,  dispersed.  Nobles,  civilians,  artists,  poets,  and 
scholars  fled  from  the  burning,  rioting  town,  and 
Rome  knew  once  more  the  desolation  she  had  escaped 
since  the  days  of  the  return  of  Gregory  XI.  The 
Vatican  suffered  equally  with  the  other  palaces.  In 
the  Borgia  apartments  open  camp-fires  of  the  bar- 
barians smoked  and  blackened  beyond  recognition 
the  golden  dreams  of  Pinturicchio.  Every  treasure 
that  could  be  melted  or  smashed  or  by  any  means 
converted  into  a  commercial  value  was  like  kindling- 
wood  to  the  flames  of  their  greed.  After  that  they 
wantonly  ruined  all  that  could  be  made  of  no  mone- 
tary value.  Spears,  javelins,  sabres  were  thrown 
at  the  frescoed  walls,  till  many  of  them  had  scarcely 
a  foot  unscarred.  The  costly  stained  glass  windows, 
the  pride  of  Sixtus  IV.,  were  shattered  to  millions 


XTbe  Vatican  palace  31 

of  glistening  splinters.  Statues  were  overthrown 
and  broken,  the  gardens  despoiled,  —  the  whole 
place  turned  into  a  wreck  that  might  be  rebuilt  but 
could  never  be  the  same.  Everything  considered, 
it  is  only  remarkable  that  the  very  stones  of  the 
foundation  were  preserved.  Conquering,  invading 
armies  even  of  twentieth  century  civilisation  do  not 
pretend  to  preserve  for  their  victims'  future  use  the 
treasures  that  come  within  their  triumphal  march. 
In  the  invasion  of  1527  there  was  a  spirit  beneath 
that  would  have  regarded  any  clemency  as  sacri- 
legious. The  Protestant  Germans  under  Friindes- 
berg  considered  the  smashing  of  images,  the  ransack- 
ing of  churches,  the  tearing  of  priestly  vestments, 
and  the  razing  of  convent  and  monastery  as  part 
of  their  religious  duty.  They  felt  to  the  elaborate 
paraphernalia  of  the  Roman  Church  much  as  the 
early  Christians  did  to  the  stone  and  marble  gods 
and  temples  of  the  heathens.  In  each  case  the  loss 
to  art  has  been  the  same. 

When  finally  Clement  VII.  was  released  and  the 
Imperial  army  withdrawn,  like  a  true  Medici  he  at 
once  set  about  the  renovating  and  reornamenting 
of  his  palace.  Giulio  Romano,  a  pupil  of  Raphael, 
was  ordered  to  finish  the  stanze  Raphael  had  begun, 
and  Del  Vaga  and  Da  Udine  were  set  at  work  in  the 
Borgia  Tower.  Finally,  Michelangelo  was  com- 
missioned to  paint  the  Last  Judgment  in  the  Sistine 


32  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

Chapel.  In  the  Pauline  Chapel,  the  Conversion  of 
St.  Paul  and  Crucifixion  of  St.  Peter  were  also 
finished  during  the  latter's  pontificate.  Though  the 
Pope  was  sixty-five  and  Michelangelo  sixty,  so 
great  was  the  ardour  of  both  that  all  Rome  began 
to  feel  as  if  she  were  back  in  the  days  of  Julius  II. 
Antonio  San  Gallo  restored  the  Court  of  the  Belve- 
dere, commenced  by  Bramante,  and  of  which  one 
whole  gallery  had  tumbled  down.  He  also  con- 
structed the  entrance  of  the  Sistine  Chapel,  and  Sala 
Regia,  an  enormous  vestibule  with  dome  in  the  centre 
whose  two  stained  glass  windows  were  by  Pastorino 
da  Siena.  This  vestibule,  where  he  wrote  the  names 
of  the  Farnese  and  Paul  III.,  took  the  place  of  very 
ancient  chambers  of  the  palace,  part  of  it  being  the 
oratory  of  the  Holy  Sacrament,  decorated  by  Angel- 
ico  for  Nicholas  V.  As  Perate  emphatically  says, 
there  can  be  no  excuse  for  the  self-aggrandisement 
that  effaced  these  souvenirs  of  bygone  times.  The 
same  Pope  who  destroyed  this  chapel  of  Nicholas  V. 
blazoned  his  name  upon  the  door  of  the  Pauline 
Chapel,  a  chapel  wjhose  richness  was  only  equalled 
by  its  banality. 

For  Julius  III.  Michelangelo  designed  a  beautiful 
flight  of  steps  for  the  Belvedere,  in  the  shape  of 
a  quadrangular  staircase  with  a  balustrade  of  pep- 
erino  marble.  By  this  time  the  master  was  getting 
old,  and  although  his  advice  was  consulted  for  what- 


XCbe  IPattcan  IPalace  33 

ever  alteration  or  addition  was  made  to  the  Vatican, 
fresco  painting  had  got  beyond  his  failing  physical 
powers.  One  can  imagine  his  disgust  when,  unable 
himself  to  paint,  his  great  fresco  of  the  Last  Judg- 
ment was  ruthlessly  altered  to  suit  the  prudery  of  the 
time.  Paul  IV.  either  felt  or  was  persuaded  that 
much  that  had  been  sanctioned  under  the  name  of 
art  was  mere  blatant  indecency.  Accordingly  he 
started  in  on  his  crusade  against  immorality  by  com- 
manding that  the  nude  figures  in  the  great  fresco 
should  be  properly  clothed.  Red  and  green  and  blue 
and  brown  robes  and  capes  and  scarfs  were  therefore 
carefully  painted  over  the  undraped  angels  and  saints 
and  martyrs  and  fiends.  The  fact  that  this  con- 
scientious veiling  of  the  "  human  form  divine  "  was 
bound  to  alter  the  lines  of  the  composition,  and 
greatly  to  change  the  distribution  of  the  colour-mass, 
influenced  this  encourager  of  reforms  not  at  all. 

While  Pius  IV.  was  Pope,  the  great  Court  of  the 
Belvedere  was  finished  after  the  plans  of  Bramante 
under  the  superintendence  of  Michelangelo.  Along- 
side of  the  SaJa  Regia  were  added  two  other  rooms 
with  a  vault  feebly  arched  over  an  arcade.  It  was 
decorated  with  a  fresco  of  landscape  alternating 
with  figures  of  the  virtues,  the  vaulting  ornamented 
with  fine  arabesques. 

Since  the  death  of  Leo  V.  the  third  story  of  the 
loggie  had  remained  untouched.    This  was  now  de€- 


34  Ube  art  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

orated  with  stucco  and  fresco  by  Da  Udine  and 
Pomarancio.  But  the  most  charming  achievement 
of  Pius  IV.  was  the  erection  of  a  summer-house  in 
the  gardens  about  the  palace.  This,  built  by  Piero 
Ligorio,  was  called  the  Villa  Pia.  It  was  a  wonder- 
fully happy  architectural  invention,  abounding  in 
all  the  grace  of  the  antique.  In  form  it  was  an  in- 
genious joining  of  two  small  houses  by  a  circular 
court  of  marble.  Placed  in  the  groves  of  pines  and 
aloes,  with  flower  beds  tier  upon  tier,  fountains  and 
marble  basins  and  covered  galleries,  with  the  walls 
ornamented  with  bas-reliefs  and  paintings  by  Baroc- 
cio,  Santo  de  Tito,  and  others,  nothing  was  lacking 
to  make  this  exquisite  creation  a  veritable  artist's 
dream.  Built  at  the  very  end  of  the  Renaissance, 
it  breathes  a  delicate  fragrance  like  a  last  tender 
bloom  upon  a  dying  branch. 

^  Gregory  XIIL,  in  whose  time  came  the  reform  of 
the  calendar,  added  the  Torre  dei  Venti  to  the  Vati- 
can, and  founded  its  gallery  of  geographical  charts. 
He  also  finished  the  second  arm  of  the  loggie  on  the 
north  of  the  Court  of  St.  Damasus.  In  the  palace 
a  whole  army  of  painters  was  at  labour.  Federigo 
Zucchero  worked  on  the  vaulting  of  the  Pauline 
Chapel,  and  with  Vasari  finished  the  frescoes  of  the 
Sala  Regia.  These  represent  the  great  pontifical 
deeds  from  the  Carolingian  donations  to  the  Battle 
of  Lepanto,  the  triumph  of  which  Rome  had  cele- 


SIXTUS    V. 
by  Sassoferrato 


XCbe  Dattcan  palace  37 

brated  with  the  pomp  of  ancient  days.  Pomarancio 
the  younger  imitated  on  the  first  floor  of  the  new 
loggie  the  decoration  of  Giovanni  da  Udine.  On  the 
second  floor  Sabatini  and  Tempesta  attempted  and 
failed  to  reproduce  the  style  of  Raphael  in  the  series 
of  little  frescoes  illustrating  the  life  of  Christ.  The 
rooms  opening  into  this  gallery  are  the  apartments 
given  to  foreign  potentates,  and  they  as  well  as  a 
chapel  dedicated  to  St.  Paul  and  Anthony  are  all 
overdecorated.  Landscapes,  Biblical  scenes,  life  of 
St.  Gregory  the  Great,  figures  of  Virtues,  crowd  and 
jostle  one  another  almost,  it  would  seem,  without 
plan.  Truly  the  Renaissance  is  dead.  The  third 
floor  continues  the  ornamentation  begun  under  Pius 
IV.  on  the  first  floor.  These  are  scenes  of  the 
life  of  Pius  IV.  and  Gregory  XIII.,  and  all  along  the 
ceiling  is  the  solemn  procession  transporting  the 
body  of  St.  Gregory  from  the  St.  Mary  of  the  Campo 
Marzo  to  St.  Peter's.  These  loggie  lead  into  an 
immense  gallery  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  metres, 
constructed  in  1581  by  Muziano,  and  enriched  by 
stucco  and  paintings  under  the  direction  of  Tem- 
pesta. 

Romans  felt,  when  Sixtus  V.  became  Pope,  as  if 
the  Renaissance  were  beginning  to  live  again.  Fon- 
tana,  who  was  his  chief  architect,  had  worked  with 
pupils  of  Michelangelo,  and  the  Pope  kept  him  busy 
altering  and  making  additions  to  his  palace.     He 


38  ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

closed  the  Court  of  St.  Damasus  toward  the  east  by 
a  third  body  of  building  where  the  continuation  of 
the  Loggie  of  Bramante  made  a  new  palace. 

Henceforth  this  was  the  habitation  of  the  Popes. 
It  is  extraordinarily  large,  more  open  and  more 
healthy  than  the  old  rooms  of  Nicholas  V.  and  of 
Julius  II.  Fontana  made  it  of  bricks,  the  window- 
cases  and  the  cornices  of  travertin.  He  gave  it  the 
form  of  a  rectangle,  a  little  elongated,  bounding  an 
interior  court  and  growing  about  the  base  of  the 
massive  tower  of  Nicholas  V. 

Not  less  important  but  more  questionable  in  taste 
was  the  creation  of  the  v  atican  library,  which  vast 
edifice,  cutting  across  the  Court  of  the  Belvedere, 
.  interrupted  the  gracious  lines  of  Bramante's  designs. 
Commenced  during  the  winter  of  1587,  it  was  almost 
entirely  finished  by  the  autumn  of  the  following  year, 
and  it  cost  a  thousand  crowns  of  gold.  In  1590  the 
windows  were  provided  with  glass,  and  the  superb 
central  gallery,  divided  into  nine  naves  by  the  pilas- 
ters of  stucco,  received  a  most  elaborate  decoration. 
These  frescoes,  more  precious  for  their  history  than 
for  their  art,  are  accompanied  by  Latin  inscriptions 
which  tell  jnost  ingeniously  of  all  the  works  ol 
Sixtus  V.  n/ 

Clement  VIII.,  he  who  condemned  Beatrice  Cenci 
to  death,  completed  the  palace  of  Sixtus  V.  by  a 
third  story,  where  to-day  are  the  apartments  of  the 


Ube  IDatican  palace  4« 

Cardinal  Secretary  of  State.  A  mediocre  painter, 
Giovanni  Alberti,  covered  the  walls  with  gigantic 
frescoes  which  represented  the  baptism  of  Constan- 
tine,  the  death  and  glorification  of  St.  Clement. 
Clement  VIII.  also  ordered  the  completion  of  the 
library  of  Sixtus  V. 

Urban  VIII.  added  to  this  library  a  new  division, 
expressly  to  receive  the  Palatine  collection  which  had 
been  bequeathed  to  it.  In  an  effort  also  to  reestab- 
lish the  pontifical  army,  which  since  the  sixteenth 
century  had  amounted  to  little,  he  formed  an  arsenal 
in  the  Vatican,  placing  it  over  the  library. 

In  1660  Bernini,  in  constructing  his  imposing 
colonnade  to  the  cathedral,  changed  the  entrance  to 
the  Vatican,  making  it  as  one  sees  it  to-day.  Of  the 
old  door  there  remain  the  "  portoni  di  bronzo,"  which 
Innocent  VIIL  had  put  in  place  and  which  Paul  V. 
had  restored.  Passing  the  ever-present  Swiss 
Guards,  one  comes  to  the  Royal  Staircase.  This 
majestic  entrance-way  has  a  beautiful  roof  of 
caissons,  supporting  the  Ionic  columns,  and  mounts 
slowly  and  harmoniously  to  the  Sala  Regia.  Ber- 
nini, as  has  been  often  said,  in  his  inexhaustible 
fertility  of  invention,  has  perhaps  never  achieved  a 
more  expressive  decoration. 

During  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries, 
the  Popes  assiduously  collected  all  the  antique  sculp- 
tures they  could  find  to  enrich  the  Vatican,  and  to 


4*  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  tDatican 

ornament  the  public  squares  of  Rome.  The  Gardens 
of  the  Belvedere  had  been  changed  into  the  Museo 
Pio-Clementino,  which  was  fast  being  filled  with 
innumerable  bas-reliefs  and  inscriptions.  The  actual 
founder  of  the  Vatican  Museum  in  its  present  form 
is  Clement  XIV.,  and  his  work  was  finished  by  his 
successor,  Pius  VI.,  under  the  guidance  of  the  archi- 
tect Simonetti.  It  meant  the  entire  remodelling  of 
the  old  villa  of  Innocent  VIII. 

Hardly  had  Pius  got  his  treasures  safely  and  beau- 
tifully housed  when,  after  the  invasion  of  the  Italian 
states  by  the  French,  the  treaty  of  Tolentino  gave 
the  gems  of  the  collection  to  Napoleon.  When 
Pius  VI.  died  in  exile  at  Valence,  the  marbles  of  his 
palace  were  in  the  Louvre  in  Paris.  Despoiled  of  all 
the  more  wonderful  of  the  art  treasures  of  his  cap- 
ital, Pius  VIL  started  bravely  to  replace  them,  if 
not  in  value,  at  least  in  extent  and  number.  It  was 
during  his  years  that  Canova  produced  his  once 
extravagantly  admired  figures,  poorly  enough,  in 
reality,  taking  the  place  of  the  antique  fragments. 

The  lapidary  of  Pius  VIL  extended  from  the  first 
floor  of  the  Loggie  of  Bramante  to  the  sill  of  the 
library  of  Sixtus  V.  Its  walls  were  ornamented  with 
antique  inscriptions,  and  bordered  by  sarcophagi  and 
all  sorts  of  broken  bits.  After  that  began  the  Museo 
Chiaramonti,  where  the  statues,  farther  than  eye  can 
see,  line  the  walls.  Almost  all  are  too  much  restored, 


Zbc  IDatlcan  ©alacc  43 

and  the  majority  of  them  are  only  of  inferior  artistic 
value.  But  meanwhile  explorations  in  Rome  and  the 
Campagna  were  constantly  bringing  new  works  to 
sight.  To  give  them  a  fitting  place,  Pius  VII.  had 
Raphael  Stern  construct,  in  182 1,  a  long,  rectangular 
room,  called  the  Braccio  Nuovo.  This  was  parallel 
to  the  library  of  Sixtus  V.,  and  over  the  same  prin- 
cipal court  of  the  Belvedere.  The  Pope  bought  every- 
thing he  could  lay  his  hands  upon,  and  in  1818  had 
already  brought  to  the  Vatican  the  celebrated  antique 
fresco  of  the  Marriage  of  the  Aldobrandines,  dis- 
covered during  the  pontificate  of  Clement  VIII.,  near 
the  Arch  of  Gallier.  In  1819  he  formed  the  Egyp- 
tian Museum,  with  the  collection  of  a  Roman  ama- 
teur, Andrea  Guidi. 

And  then,  finally,  after  Waterloo,  in  18 15,  the 
Louvre  in  its  turn  had  to  disgorge,  and  back  came 
the  treasures  Napoleon  a  score  of  years  before  had 
sent  in  triumph  to  the  city  on  the  Seine.  The  Vati- 
can gained  by  the  transfer  more  than  she  had  lost, 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  France  managed  to  retain 
a  few  minor  sculptures.  For  Pius  VII.  took  from 
the  returned  spoils  of  war  enough  canvases  that  once 
had  hung  in  Italian  churches  to  start  a  picture-gal- 
lery in  his  palace.  They  were  placed  in  the  building 
of  Gregory  XIIL,  in  the  third  story  of  the  loggie. 

This  brings  us  almost  to  the  Vatican  as  it  exists 
to-day.    In  1836,  Gregory  XVI.  created  the  Etrus- 


44  Ubc  Hrt  of  tbe  IDatican 

can  Museum  in  twelve  small  rooms,  and  in  1858 
Pius  IX.  added  to  the  chambers  of  Raphael  the  room 
of  the  Immaculate  Conception,  decorated  in  fresco 
by  Francesco  Podesti.  Pius  IX.,  as  well,  opened  th- 
old  balustrade  giving  access  to  the  Court  of  '. 
Damasus  by  a  large  covered  stairway  of  tra\  nin 
and  white  marble  and  stucco.  His  orders  repL  ed 
with  marble  and  glass  the  magnificent  stair*  ^e 
leading  with  its  three  hundred  steps  to  the  palace  if 
Sixtus  v.,  and  under  his  direction  Alessan'* 
Mantovani  repaired  the  paintings  of  Da  Udine  ?  A 
Pomarancio  on  the  first  floor  of  the  loggie.  Ti  ey 
also  decorated  the  wing  of  Sixtus  V.  with  landscapes 
and  Christian  allegories.  ^i 

V  In  1870  the  temporal  power  of  the  Popes  no  longer 
existed.  Only  in  the  Vatican  was  that  power  still 
omnipotent.  If  now  Italy  had  the  great  painters 
and  sculptors  of  the  Renaissance,  one  can  imagine 
that  every  means  would  be  employed  to  secure  their 
ablest  efforts  for  this  last  remnant  of  the  might  that 
once  claimed  the  world's  obeisance.  Even  with  the 
inadequate  talent  at  his  command,  Leo  XIII.  has 
done  much  to  prove  his  artistic  right  to  be  the 
successor  of  the  Popes  of  days  for  them  more  for- 
tunate. He  has  opened  new  rooms  in  the  library 
and  archives.  He  has  ornamented  the  Gallery  of 
the  Candelabra  with  a  rich  pavement  of  marble,  and 
a  ceiling  where  are  painted  in  allegories  the  acts  of 


Ube  Dattcan  palace  45 

his  pontificate.  His  greatest  claim  to  the  gratitude 
of  all  art-lovers  is  his  restoration  and  opening  to  the 
public  the  apartments  of  the  Borgia. 

^.Perhaps,  when  the  to-be-hoped-far-away  future 
h<|,  ^crumbled  to  ruins  the  Stanze  and  the  Sistine 
Chap«^i,  perhaps  the  soil  of  Italy  will  have  ready  a 
new  1  Luce  of  giant  creators,  who  can  worthily  replace 
tiiQ^  masterpieces  of  the  vanished  past.  Meanwhile, 
forjus,  the  embers  of  that  golden  era  still  glow 
w'(  La  brilliancy  that  dims  all  present  achievement. 
On<fi  one  of  many  museums  where  are  garnered  the 
art  efeasures  of  the  world,  it  is  the  Vatican  which 
holds  more  completely  than  any  other  worthy  ex- 
ami^les  of  the  greatest  art-epochs  of  all  times. 


CHAPTER   11. 

CHAPEL   OF   NICHOLAS  V. 

There  is  little  of  the  atmosphere  of  the  outside 
world  anywhere  in  the  Vatican  Palace.  Yet  the 
quiet  that  pervades  the  galleries,  museums,  and 
chapels  in  this  home  of  the  Popes,  seems  noise  com- 
pared with  the  still  solemnity  of  the  small  room 
once  the  studio  and  now  called  the  Chapel  of  Nich- 
olas V.  So  thoroughly  do  the  paintings  of  that 
monk  who  worked  only  for  the  glory  of  God  domi- 
nate both  the  room  and  those  who  enter  it. 

After  more  than  a  decade  spent  in  the  Convent 
of  San  Marco,  Angelico  da  Fiesole,  called  lovingly 
Fra  Angelico,  was  summoned  to  Rome  by  Eugenius 
IV.  In  the  spring  of  1447,  when  Eugenius  had  been 
dead  some  months,  the  frate  began  his  labours  in 
the  Vatican.  The  painting  of  the  study  of  Nicholas 
was  preceded  by  his  decoration  of  the  Chapel  of 
St.  Peter,  a  building  between  the  basilica  and  the 
palace,  and  which  was  destroyed  less  than  a  century 
afterward  to  give  place  to  the  great  staircase  of 
the  palace.    The  frescoes  thus  destroyed  contained 

46 


Cbapel  of  Bicbolas  \).  47 

portraits  of  Nicholas  V.,  St.  Antonio,  and  Biondo 
of  Forli. 

Upon  three  walls  of  the  vaulted  study  of  the 
Pope  he  painted  the  histories  of  St.  Stephen  and  St. 
Lawrence.  The  St.  Stephen  series  fill  the  upper 
lunette-shaped  portions  of  each  wiall.  They  picture 
his  Ordination,  his  Distribution  of  Alms,  his  Preach- 
ing, his  Defence  before  the  Council,  his  Expulsion 
from  the  City,  his  Death  by  Stoning.  The  lower 
part  of  each  wall  has  a  scene  or  scenes  from  the 
life  of  St.  Lawrence,  corresponding  in  subject  to 
those  above:  his  Ordination,  the  Pope  Bestowing 
upon  him  the  Treasures  of  the  Church,  his  Distri- 
bution of  these  Treasures,  his  Appearance  before 
Decius,  Conversion  of  his  Jailer,  and  his  Martyr- 
dom. 

These  frescoes,  painted  when  Fra  Angelico  was 
already  an  old  man,  show  nothing  of  the  weakness 
of  age.  Instead  they  are  a  grand  culmination  of  a 
life  that,  using  art  only  to  express  the  joys  and 
solace  of  religion,  nevertheless  advanced  steadily 
and  triumphantly  to  complete  artistic  expression. 
The  most  splendid  are  the  St.  Stephen  Preaching, 
Martyrdom  of  St.  Stephen,  Ordination  of  St.  Law- 
rence, St.  Lawrence  Giving  Alms,  and  St.  Lawrence 
before  the  Emperor  Decius. 

St.  Stephen  Preaching  shows  the  saint  on  a  low 
step  that  apparently  leads  to  some  building  near 


48  Ube  Hrt  of  tbe  IDatican 

the  city  wall.  Before  him,  a  company  of  women  sit 
listening"  to  his  words,  while  behind  them  stand  a 
■number  of  men,  as  deeply  interested.  The  Gothic 
architecture  of  the  background  may  possibly  be 
attributed  to  Benozzo  Gozzoli,  a  pupil  of  Fra 
Angelico.  There  are,  in  this  composition,  twenty- 
two  or  twenty-three  figures.  And  each  and  every 
one,  it  is  not  too  much  to  say,  has  a  life,  an  indi- 
viduality, an  .expressiveness  scarcely  ever  before  to 
be  found  in  paintings  of  the  early  quattrocento.  The 
saint  himself,  as  he  stands  before  his  listeners,  has 
a  solidity,  a  mundness,  a  reality  that  might  be 
credited  to  that  great  creator  of  solid,  firmly  built 
human  forms,  Masaccio.  But  he  has  as  well  the 
grace  and  charm  and  spirit  that  Masaccio  never 
acquired.  These  were  Fra  Angelico's  birthright. 
This,  too,  like  the  rest  of  the  frescoes,  abounds  in 
realistic  touches.  St.  Stephen,  gazing  intently  and 
with  great  persuasion  at  his  audience,  has  grasped 
bis  left  thumb  between  the  forefinger  and  thumb  of 
his  right  hand ;  a  gesture  as  natural  as  it  is  telling, 
ill  marking  off  the  points  of  his  discourse.  In  the 
vvomen  seated  on  the  ground  there  are  innumerable 
indications  of  the  study  Fra  Angelico  was  constantly, 
making  from  living  models.  Though  they  are  all 
dressed  very  much  alike,  the  position  of  their  hands, 
the  expression  of  their  faces,  are  as  different  as 
if  a  modern  painter  were  representing  them.    There 


Cbapel  ot  Wcbolas  ID»  49 

is,  perhaps,  a  slight  sameness  in  their  features.  Yet 
this  does  not  make  them  less  individual.  While  all 
are  deeply  engrossed,  they  show  their  attention  in 
varying  ways  and  degrees.  One  woman  has  her 
hands  crossed  on  her  breast,  while  she  gazes  at  the 
saint  with  her  head  thrown  back,  as  if  she  were 
drinking  from  the  very  fount  of  the  Most  High. 
Beside  her  another  has  her  hands  clasped,  while  with 
even  eyes  she  follows  the  words,  her  whole  manner 
evidence  that  each  sentence  is  fraught  with  deep 
personal  application.  Farther  front,  nearly  in  full 
face,  is  one,  her  hands  on  her  lap,  her  eyes  level, 
looking  out  of  the  picture  instead  of  at  the  preacher. 
She  listens  with  veneration  but  with  the  calmly 
quiescent  spirit  of  one  who  already  knows  and  appre- 
ciates the  Scriptural  pleadings  she  hears.  One  of 
the  most  remarkable  faces  is  that  of  an  older,  more 
closely  draped  woman,  somewhat  behind  the  last 
mentioned.  Only  her  head  and  shoulders  can  be 
seen.  But  the  dark-eyed  face  hints  of  trouble  and 
suffering,  and  she  listens  to  the  words  as  if  her  soul 
was  longing  for  the  help  she  is  sure  rnust  come. 
The  men  in  the  rear  are  no  less  striking  in  delinea- 
tion. There  is  more  difference  in  facial  expression, 
and  their  attitudes  are  full  of  change  and  action. 
The  two  men  on  the  left  who  stand  talking  together 
are  especially  noteworthy.  One  is  evidently  ex- 
pounding some  precept  of  the  saint,  while  the  other, 


so  Ubc  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

wrapped  closely  in  his  robe,  turns  his  bearded  face 
in  eager  attention. 

The  Martyrdom  of  St.  Stephen  fills  the  other  half 
of  the  lunette  that  shows  him  thrust  out  from  the 
city.  The  two  scenes  are  separated  by  the  curving 
wall  of  the  city  with  its  towers  and  battlernents  that 
recede  into  the  distance  against  the  hills  of  the  back- 
ground. The  figures  of  the  latter  division  are  not  up 
to  the  best  work  in  the  chapel.  The  characterisation 
of  the  faces  is  still  penetrating  and  distinctive,  but 
there  is  less  happy  placing,  and  the  forms  are  thicker 
and  clumsier,  and  show  less  intimate  knowledge  of 
construction.  On  the  other  side,  however,  the 
painter-priest  returns  to  his  higher  level.  At  the 
extreme  right  St.  Stephen  kneels  in  prayer,  appar- 
ently unconscious  of  the  stones  hurled  against  him, 
or  of  the  streams  of  blood  that  are  trickling  down 
his  face  and  neck.  As  always  with  Fra  Angelico's 
saints,  his  halo  is  well  defined,  like  a  round  disc, 
against  which  his  •  face  comes  sharply  in  profile. 
Behind  him  are  two  of  his  slayers,  one,  an  old  man 
who,  holding  his  garment  away  from  his  feet  with 
his  left  hand,  is  about  to  hurl  a  rock  with  his  other. 
His  hairy  face  expresses  implacable  revenge  and 
fanatic  rage,  and  his  figure  is  tense  with  the  con- 
centrated passion  of  the  moment.  In  front  of  him  a 
younger,  equally  vigorous  figure,  has  just  discharged! 
one  of  the  stones  that  is   crashing  against  the 


Cbapel  ot  Bicbolas  t)*  51 

martyr's  head.  Back  of  these  two  stand  the  Phari- 
sees, sternly  relentless,  conscientiously  vindictive. 
Prominent  is  St.  Paul,  who  holds  some  of  the 
garments  of  the  slayers.  No  figure  by  Masaccio 
ever  stood  more  firmly  upon  the  ground  or  showed 
keener  sense  of  what  Berenson  names  "  the  tactile 
values.''  In  almost  all  the  frescoes  of  the  chapel, 
it  appears  quite  possible  to  walk  around  these  well- 
constructed  figures.  They  are  no  mere  shells 
pasted  against  a  background.  They  stand  upon 
firm  foundations,  and  behind  them  is  a  real  distance, 
with  ample  room  between.  The  figure  of  St.  Paul 
has  these  attributes  in  a  marked  degree.  The 
painter,  too,  has  portrayed  him  so  well  that  it  is 
easy  to  see  how  that  sturdy,  uncompromising  per- 
sonality became  afterward  the  fervid,  compelling 
apostle. 

Next  to  the  St.  Stephen  Preaching  comes  the 
scene  before  the  Council  of  Jerusalem.  The  judge 
in  white  on  the  throne-like  bench  is  splendidly  con- 
ceived; the  folds  of  his  ample  mantle  have  the 
dignity  of  the  antique. 

In  the  Ordination  of  St.  Stephen,  Peter  is  bending 
over  the  kneeling  saint  before  six  disciples.  The 
nave  and  transept  of  the  church  in  the  distance 
are  excellent  in  proportion,  and  of  a  good  style. 
Until  very  late  in  his  artistic  career,  Fra  Angelico 
had  paid  little  attention  to  perspective,  —  painting 


52  Ube  Htt  ot  tbe  Vatican 

with  a  flatness  like  the  Japanese  or  early  Byzantines. 
Here  he  turns  away  from  all  this  and  gets  effects  of 
distance  and  proportion  as  accurately  as  if  he  had 
always  been  striving  for  them.  Time  and  restoring 
have  greatly  injured  both  St.  Stephen's  Expulsion 
and  his  Martyrdom. 

St.  Stephen  Giving  Alms  is  pathetic  and  lovely 
in  the  extreme.  Standing  on  the  steps  of  his  church, 
he  slips  a  piece  of  money  into  the  hands  of  a  young 
mother.  She  is  draped  in  flowing  robes  that  accen- 
tuate her  graceful  femininity.  A  clerk  is  behind  the 
saint  and  near  the  mother  is  an  older  woman 
entranced  in  prayer.  Others  press  forward  for  their 
share  of  the  charity,  and  at  the  right .  two  women 
depart  and  commune  with  each  other.  Fra  Angelico 
here,  as  in  the  companion  to  this,  St.  Lawrence  Dis- 
tributing Alms,  succeeded  in  showing  poverty  and 
frailty  without  arousing  dislike  or  shrinking  in  the 
spectator's  mind.  He  emphasises  instead  the  joy  of 
giving  and  the  thankfulness  of  the  receiver,  and  fills 
the  picture  with  a  tender  feeling  for  helplessness 
that  does  not  obscure  the  excellent  pictorial  effects 
of  the  composition. 

In  the  Ordination  of  St.  Lawrence  by  Sixtus  II., 
which  is  much  damaged,  the  Pope,  with  the  tiara, 
is  seated  in  a  basilica  of  a  late  classic  style.  Before 
him  kneels  the  young  deacon,  to  whom  he  is  handing 
the  patten  and  chalice.    Seven  or  eight  ecclesiastics 


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ORDINATION    OF    ST.    LAWRENCE    BY    SIXTUS    II. 
By  Fra  Angelico ;  in  the  Chapel  of  Nicholas  V. 


Cbapel  of  mtcbolas  It)*  ss 

surround  them.  One  bears  a  book,  another  a  censer, 
another  an  incense  boat.  But  they  are  of  sUght 
character  and  generally  uninteresting.  It  is  upon 
the  Pope  and  the  kneeling  saint  that  the  painter  has 
spent  his  chief  efforts.  The  grave  old  man  and  the 
eager  young  priest  are  worthy  of  closest  study. 
Here,  too,  as  in  the  St.  Stephen,  the  Pope  is  a  por- 
trait of  Nicholas  V. 

The  panel  of  St.  Lawrence  Receiving  the  Treas- 
ures of  the  Church  has  a  complicated  but  correct 
architectural  background.  The  two  soldiers  at  the 
door  are  realistically  portrayed  and  full  of  action, 
if  slightly  twisted  in  construction. 

It  is  in  the  mate  to  this,  however,  St.  Lawrence 
Giving  Alms,  that  Fra  Angelico's  power  is  at  its 
height.  Standing  in  front  of  the  nave  of  a  basilica, 
the  saint  is  surrounded  by  a  pleading,  importunate, 
but  cheerful  crowd  of  beggars.  In  spite  of  infirmi- 
ties and  needs  of  all  description,  they  express  in 
every  line  their  confident  belief  in  the  generosity  of 
the  giver.  The  mother  holding  the  child  close  in  her 
arms  might  almost  be  the  model  for  one  of  Fra 
Angelico's  Madonnas.  Like  one  of  his  saints,  too, 
is  the  old  man  with  the  long  beard,  who  is  bending 
forward  and  leaning  on  his  cane,  while  he  claims  his 
share.  Two  little  children,  one  of  whom  already 
has  his  gift,  are  clasping  arms  in  great  content,  the 
childlike  naivete  of  their  expressions  being  no  less 


s6  Ube  art  of  tbe  IDattcan 

true  to  childhood  than  to  Fra  Angelico's  art.  The 
architectural  background  is  exact  in  its  lines  of 
perspective,  and  the  delicate  ornaments  of  the 
pilasters  and  capitals  are  exquisitely  indicated.  On 
the  whole,  this  may  be  called  the  most  remarkable  of 
all  of  Fra  Angelico's  works.  He  shows  in  it  his 
enthusiastic  study  of  the  antique,  his  no  less  earnest 
consideration  of  the  human  form,  and  at  the  same 
time  his  own  deep  spiritual  power,  and  that  delight 
he  took  in  making  his  religious  ecstasies  intelligible 
to  his  day.  It  is  indeed  the  culmination  of  much  of 
the  best  art  of  the  early  quattrocento. 

In  the  St.  Lawrence  before  Decius,  he  has  the 
most  florid  of  all  his  architectural  accessories.  The 
emperor  is  seated  upon  a  throne  in  an  apse-like 
recess,  on  either  side  of  which  are  two  pilasters 
with  Corinthian  capitals.  The  entablature  over  the 
arch  runs  along  on  the  same  level  over  a  wall  flank- 
ing the  canopy  on  each  side,  this  wall  also  divided  by 
Corinthian  pilasters  placed  at  even  distances.  In 
front  of  it  a  rich  brocade  hangs  loosely,  and  above, 
on  each  side  of  the  attic  of  the  canopy  is  a  large 
flat  bowl  full  of  flowers.  In  Decius,  who  sits  upon 
his  throne  "  for  all  the  world  a  king,"  is  a  certain 
sense  of  aloofness.  His  eyes  are  downcast  and  do 
not  look  at  St.  Lawrence,  who  faces  his  accusers 
squarely.  All  about  are  the  populace,  drawn 
with  much  variety  of  detail  and  attitude.    The  head 


ST.    BUONAVENTURA 
By  Fra  Angelico ;  in  the  Chapel  of  Nicholas  V- 


Cbapcl  of  laicbolas  ID*  59 

of  Decius  was  undoubtedly  copied  from  a  Roman 
bust. 

The  Martyrdom  of  St.  Lawrence  is  greatly  in- 
jured, but  the  figures  are  clearly  differentiated  and 
strongly  expressive. 

Throughout  the  series  the  colour  has  of  course 
undergone  the  usual  vicissitudes.  Many  portions 
have  been  repainted,  more  have  suffered  from  damp- 
ness and  corrosion.  In  spite  of  everything,  however, 
there  is  still  much  of  the  simple  brilliant  tones  Fra 
Angelico  loved  so  well,  and  that  gave  to  his  heavenly 
scenes  a  lightness  and  freshness  unexcelled  by  any 
other  master  of  his  time. 

Between  the  lower  series  of  frescoes,  on  the  pilas- 
ters, are  painted  saints,  standing  in  niches.  Tliese 
are  SS.  Anastatius,  Leo,  Thomas  Aquinas,  Ambrose, 
Buonaventura,  Augustine,  John,  Chrysostom,  and 
Pope  Gregory  the  Great.  Of  them  the  Buonaventura 
is  the  most  celebrated.  The  slender,  ascetic  hands, 
clasping  the  open  book,  are  as  full  of  character  as 
is  the  benignant  head,  with  its  kindly  introspective 
eyes,  its  firm,,  generous  mouth,  its  flowing,  forked 
beard.  It  is  probable  that  the  painter-monk  was 
making  a  portrait  of  some  dear  friend,  so  sympa- 
thetic and  intimate  is  the  treatment. 

In  the  vaulting  are  the  four  Evangelists  with  their 
symbols,  against  an  azure  golden-starred  sky.    St, 


6o  XTbe  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

Matthew  has  his  book  and  pen,  and  an  exquisite  little 
angel  with  clasped  hands  is  standing  beside  him. 

St.  Luke,  whose  wide  forehead  is  widened  by  his 
lack  of  hair,  also  has  a  book  and  pen,  and  near 
him  kneels  the  ox.  The  face  is  wonderfully  expres- 
sive of  the  physician  side  of  the  apostle. 

St.  John  is  shown  with  the  eagle,  his  face  not 
strongly  unlike  Buonaventura. 

St.  Mark  appears  with  his  lion  watching  by  his 
side,  while  the  apostle  with  bent  head  and  eyes  busily 
writes  in  the  volume  on  his  knee. 

To  quote  the  American  editors  of  Vasari's 
"  Lives,"  "  The  scenes  in  the  lives  of  Stephen  and 
Lawrence  in  this  chapel  ...  do  not  suffer  greatly 
even  in  their  close  juxtaposition  with  the  Stanze  of 
Raphael."  In  this  nearness  they  "  are  like  the  plein 
chant  of  the  mediseval  Church  beside  the  chorded 
melodies  of  Palestrina."  "...  Consider  the  very 
early  epoch  of  Fra  Angelico,  and  that  he  was  well 
known  even  before  Masaccio  began  the  frescoes  of 
the  Carmine,  and  it  must  be  admitted  that  here,  in 
spite  of  his  self-imposed  limitations,  was  one  of  the 
greatest  masters  of  the  Renaissance." 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE   BORGIA   APARTMENTS 

The  Appartamenti  Borgia  of  the  Vatican  are 
directly  under  the  Stanze  of  Raphael. '  These  rooms, 
so  elaborately  decorated  by  Pinturicchio  for  the 
Borgian  pontiff,  were  deserted  by  Julius  IL,  and  for 
four  hundred  years  were  allowed  to  fall  into  neglect. 
In  1816,  after  the  return  of  the  papal  treasures  by 
France,  they  were  taken  for  the  picture-gallery. 
The  light  was  so  bad,  however,  that  the  paintings 
had  to  be  removed,  and  the  suite  was  then  made  into 
a  miscellaneous  museum  and  library.  In  1891 
Leo  XIII.  began  their  restoration.  By  that  time 
the  plaster  in  many  places  had  been  cracked  and 
destroyed,  and  during  the  time  of  Pius  VII.  a 
varnish  was  applied  to  parts  of  the  ceiling,  which 
made  a  kind  of  crust.  The  restoration,  carried  out 
under  the  direction  of  Signor  Lodovico  Seitz,  was 
confined  to  repairing  the  plaster  and  stucco,  and 
to  cleaning  the  frescoes  from  dust  and  damp.  In 
some  parts  of  the  fifth  and  sixth  halls,  stucco  has 

been  taken  from  the  walls,  and  the  walls  then  re- 

61 


62  zbc  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

constructed  and  the  surface  "  refixed."  But  it  has 
been  done  so  exquisitely  that  no  mark  is  observable, 
and  fortunately  retouching,  with  some  trifling  excep- 
tions, has  not  been  allowed.  What  repairing  there 
is  dates  from  the  time  of  Pius  VII.  This,  of  course, 
so  far  as  the  actual  panel  paintings  are  concerned. 
The  purely  decorative  part,  especially  of  the  lower 
walls,  was  in  such  bad  condition  that  it  had  to  be 
completely  renovated.  When  possible  the  fragmen- 
tary remains  were  closely  followed,  and  if  they  were 
wholly  lacking  appropriate  hangings  have  taken  their 
place.  These  minor  decorations  form  a  tremendous 
study  in  themselves,  and  are  particularly  interesting 
because  it  is  so  apparent  that  the  artist  superintended 
every  bit  of  the  work,  ordering  the  marble  mantels 
and  cornices,  the  wainscoting,  and  even  the  porce- 
lain flooring  to  suit  his  colour  plan.  The  rooms 
were  reopened  to  the  public  in  March,  1897. 

Ehrle  and  Stevenson  in  their  splendid  volume 
show  very  clearly  that  it  is  only  with  the  second 
of  the  Borgia  apartments  that  Pinturicchio's  work 
commenced.  The  rooms  occupied  by  Alexander  VI. 
for  living  purposes  were  the  Hall  of  Mysteries,  the 
Hall  of  Saints,  that  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  and  the 
two  "  withdrawing  "  rooms.  There  were  thus  five 
rooms  which  probably  took  Pinturicchio  about  three 
years  to  finish.  His  superintendence  is  evident  in 
every  one.     Undoubtedly  he  had  assistants,   and 


Zbc  JSorgta  Hpartment5  6^ 

many  of  them,  but  his  vigilance  mtist  have  made 
him  nearly  omnipresent.  His  oversight  was  so 
careful  that  nowhere  is  there  any  break.  They  are 
his  own,  not  only  in  design  and  placing,  but  largely 
in  actual  execution.  Probably  the  marble  work 
is  by  Andrea  Bregno,  who  was  with  Pinturicchio  in 
the  Sistine  Ohapel. 

The  glowing  yet  subdued  beauty  of  the  rooms  is 
like  a  brilliant  flower  bed  seen  through  a  filmy  haze, 
the  colours  swimming  and  melting  and  absorbing  one 
another  till  there  is  a  bloom  that,  rich,  resplendent, 
is  far  removed  from  even  a  suggestion  of  garishness. 
The  chambers  are  square,  not  very  high,  and  slightly 
vaulted.  It  was  in  the  Hall  of  Arts  that  the  first 
husband  of  Lucrezia  was  murdered.  In  the  next 
the  Pope  died  in  terrible  anguish. 

The  first  room,  the  Hall  of  the  Pontiffs,  which 
Ehrle  and  Stevenson  claim  was  never  painted  by 
Pinturicchio,  was  at  any  rate  entirely  redecorated  in 
the  time  of  Leo  X.  by  Perino  del  Vaga  and  Giovanni 
da  Udine.  Though  the  scheme  of  the  ornamenta- 
tion leads  easily  into  the  following  rooms,  it  is 
much  inferior  to  them.  In  the  vaulting  are  frescoes 
of  the  constellations,  with  a  heavy  stucco  work  there 
as  well  as  on  the  walls.  The  tapestries  below  repre- 
sent the  myth  of  Cephalus  and  Procris. 

In  the  Hall  of  the  Mysteries,  the  first  of  the  Pin- 
turicchio series,  are  seven  principal  paintings  in  the 


64  Zbc  Hrt  of  tbe  Datican 

lunettes  made  by  the  lines  of  the  vaulting:  the 
Annunciation,  the  Nativity,  the  Adoration,  the 
Resurrection,  the  Ascension,  the  Descent  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and  the  Assumption  of  the  Virgin.  All 
these  are  simple  in  the  extreme,  of  a  peaceful,  poetic 
character,  with  the  figures  drawn  on  the  quiet,  con- 
ventional lines  suited  to  the  demands  of  the  Church 
of  that  early  date. 

The  Annunciation  is  considered  to  be  wholly  by 
Pinturicchio.  In  a  stately  hall  of  rich  ornamenta- 
tion, Mary  is  kneeling  on  a  tesselated  floor,  a  vase 
of  roses  between  her  and  the  angel  carrying  the  lily 
branch.  Through  the  central,  imposing,  triple  arch- 
way, an  attractive  Umbrian  landscape  is  seen. 
Above,  in  the  sky,  the  Eternal,  surrounded  by 
cherubs,  sends  the  dove  of  his  Spirit  to  the  kneel- 
ing maiden  below.  The  colour  is  as  charming  and 
restful  as  the  drawing  is  simple  and  graceful,  the 
sentiment  reverently  religious.  The  angel's  robes 
are  a  rose-pink,  Mary's  an  exquisite  combination  of 
peacock  blues  and  greens.  There  is  over  the  whole 
a  delicate  suffusion  of  colour  as  fascinating  as  it  is 
softly  luminous.  Here  as  everywhere,  parts  of  the 
composition  are  picked  out  in  gilded  stucco,  that, 
after  the  toning  of  hundreds  of  years  no  longer 
obtrudes  or  overaccentuates. 

In  the  Nativity,  the  Virgin  and  Child  are  cer- 
tainly by  Pinturicchio  himself,  though  there  is  evi- 


XTbe  ifiSotGia  Hpartments  65 

dence  of  pupils'  work  elsewhere  in  the  picture.  The 
baby  Christ  lies  in  the  centre  foreground  on  a  cloth 
thrown  over  a  bunch  of  hay  or  straw.  At  some 
distance  kneel  Mary  and  Joseph,  in  adoration.  Pro- 
jecting from  one  side  are  the  pillars  and  thatched 
roof  of  the  stable,  over  the  wicker  manger  of  which 
an  ass  and  a  cow  look  out  with  wise,  questioning 
eyes.  Slightly  back  of  Joseph  two  charming  angels 
are  also  kneeling,  and  above  in  the  golden  starred 
sky  are  other  angelic  messengers,  three  of  them 
grouped  together  holding  a  scroll.  The  landscape  is 
similar  to  the  one  of  the  Annunciation,  with  trees 
and  roadways,  hills  and  distant  castles. 

Schmarson  attributes  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi 
to  a  Lombard,  with  the  exception  of  the  boy  stand- 
ing on  the  extreme  right  at  his  horse's  head.  He  is 
thought  to  show  the  hand  of  a  pupil  of  Botticelli. 
Mary,  tender  and  sweet-faced,  sits  on  the  porch  of 
a  building  that,  though  tumbling  into  ruins,  still 
retains  elaborately  carved  pillars  and  arches  and 
cornices.  At  her  side  stands  Joseph,  leaning  on 
his  staff,  and  in  front  are  the  Eastern  kings,  with 
their  numerous  followers.  There  is  some  careful 
study  of  the  faces  of  these  old  and  young  men,  but 
both  in  the  drapery  and  in  the  build  of  the  figures 
beneath  there  is  much  less  knowledge  displayed  than 
in  the  best  of  Pinturicchio's  work.  The  landscape 
is  again  Umbrian,  sharp  hills  in  the  distance  and  a 


66  XLbc  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

mass  of  ruins  in  the  foreground.  In  the  sky  two 
angels  fill  the  upper  part  of  the  lunette,  rather  too 
fully  perhaps.  The  child,  staading  on  Mary's  knee, 
is  unusually  poorly  constructed  and  modelled. 

The  magnificent  figure  of  the  Pope  kneeling  at 
the  left  of  the  open  tomb  in  the  Resurrection  is  what 
saves  that  fresco  from  intense  archaism.  Though 
the  guards  in  armour  opposite  him  are  full  of  spirit, 
they  are  angular  in  construction  and  of  laboured 
foreshortening.  Christ,  in  mid-air  over  the  tomb, 
stands  on  a  cloud,  an  elliptical  golden  glory  com- 
pletely encircling  him.  This  glory  is  of  golden 
stucco  of  innumerable  round  spots,  over  which  raised 
golden  flames  are  splayed.  His  right  breast,  shoul- 
der, and  arm  are  uncovered  by  the  voluminous 
drapery  that  leaves  his  left  leg  from  the  knee  down 
fully  exposed.  He  is  imperfectly  conceived  and 
weakly  drawn.  Far  and  away  from  the  knowledge 
and  authority  of  the  hand  that  painted  the  Pope. 
This  pontiff  is  so  entirely  draped  by  his  magnificent 
brocaded  jewel-bordered  robe  that  only  his  head 
and  hands  are  free.  Even  his  short  neck  is  nearly 
swallowed  from  sig'ht  by  the  heavy  collar.  Yet  the 
figure  beneath  this  swathing  is  almost  as  clearly  felt 
as  if  Michelangelo  himself  had  painted  it.  Not  an 
unnecessary  fold  is  there,  either,  in  the  gorgeous 
papal  costume  as  it  hangs  straight  from  the  thick 
shoulders.     It  is  in  the  face  and  hands,  however, 


ALEXANDER   VI. 
Detail  from  Resurrection,  by  Pinturicchio ;  in  the  Hall  of  Mysteries 


Xlbe  J3oraia  Hpartments  69 

that  the  artist  reveals  himself  as  a  portrait  painter 
of  high  rank.  The  face  is  in  direct  profile,  —  a  posi- 
tion that  shows  as  Httle  as  may  be  the  fat  cheeks 
and  extra  layers  of  flesh  running  from  cheeks  and 
chin  to  neck.  But  a  square  full  face  would  not 
more  truly  have  given  the  character  of  this  Borgian 
pontiff.  An  insuflicient,  sloping  forehead,  full  eyes, 
too  close  to  the  nose,  which  is  large  and  with  a  high 
Roman  arch  to  it,  long  upper  lip  over  a  heavy  lower 
one,  a  chin  that  leads  by  one  diagonal  line  without 
a  curve  into  the  wide,  short  neck,  a  most  abnormal 
development  of  the  lower  back  part  of  head  and  neck, 
—  these  are  the  salient  points  of  this  portrayal  which 
can  be  no  caricature.  For  it  must  have  pleased  the 
Pope,  or  it  would  not  have  remained  on  the  walls, 
and  perforce  it  must  have  done  him  full  credit. 
The  hands  with  their  smooth  taper  fingers  would  be 
nearly  ideally  perfect,  if  the  flesh  had  not  made 
them  puffy.  Not  the  kind  of  hands  likely  to  be 
found  on  a  strong,  noble  man,  but  of  charming  line 
and  colour  for  a  —  soulless  dilettante  perhaps. 

In  the  arch  above  the  window  is  the  Ascension. 
Here  once  more  is  the  Christ  with  the  flame-raised 
glory  behind  him  in  very  similar  position  to  that  of 
the  Resurrection.  It  is  also  an  equally  weak,  ill- 
drawn  figure,  and  indeed  the  whole  scene  lacks  the 
fresh  spontaneity  of  many  of  the  others.  Around 
Christ  in  the  sky  is  a  border  of  cherubs,  with  still 


70  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  Datican 

more  beyond.  Of  the  two  angels  who  are  kneeling 
beside  the  Redeemer,  the  one  on  the  right  with 
slashed  sleeves  and  robe  is  especially  lovely,  showing 
a  charming  feeling  in  the  praising  hands  and  the 
fair,  downcast  face.  Below  this  heavenly  division  is 
an  expanse  of  sea  bordered  with  fields,  pompon- 
foliaged  trees,  and  hills,  and  castles.  Here  are 
Mary  and  the  apostles.  Some  of  the  younger  heads 
remind  one  of  Botticelli,  especially  the  one  in  the 
background  on  the  right.  There  is  considerable 
attempt  at  characterisation,  but  they  do  not  make  at 
all  homogeneous  groups.  The  colouring  in  this,  as 
in  all,  is  restful  in  its  blues  and  greens,  enlivened 
without  being  sharpened  too  strongly  with  the  gold. 

The  Descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit  has  suffered  much 
from  the  damp  and  restoration.  The  scene  is  in  an 
open  field,  with  background  similar  to  the  land- 
scapes of  the  other  spaces.  In  the  clouds  above, 
surrounded  with  golden  rays  and  a  dozen  or  more 
cherub  heads,  is  the  dove  with  outspread  wings. 
Below,  with  Mary  kneeling  in  the  centre  facing  the 
spectator,  are  the  disciples  again.  If  possible,  they 
are  even  less  successful  than  in  the  Ascension. 

The  last  one  of  the  large  frescoes  of  the  room  is 
the  Assumption,  and  it  is  a  rarely  beautiful  work. 
There  are  certain  parts  which  recall  Perugino,  but 
it  is  probably  by  Pinturicchio's  own  hand.  Above 
the  open,  rose-filled  tomib,   Mary  is  being  borne 


Ube  JSorata  Hpattments  71 

heavenwards.  She  is  sitting  with  prayer-laid 
hands  in  the  centre  of  the  usual  elliptical,  golden 
glory,  bordered  with  cherubs.  Over  her  head  two 
graceful  angels  hold  a  crown  and  the  pendant 
jewelled  ribbons.  Below  these,  with  their  feet  rest- 
ing on  clouds,  are  four  angel  musicians.  One  plays 
a  guitar  or  mandolin,  one  a  violin,  one  the  triangle, 
and  the  fourth  the  tambourine.  Their  positions  and 
draperies  are  as  effective  as  some  of  Raphael's  own 
conceptions.  On  the  left  of  the  tomb  is  a  saint  with 
aureole,  the  face  turned  up  till  it  is  strongly  fore- 
shortened. The  excellent  drawing  of  the  hands,  the 
full,  heavily  folded  drapery  with  its  narrow  golden 
edges,  the  intent,  earnest  expression,  and  the  feeling 
for  bone  and  muscle  in  the  whole  figure  make  this 
a  very  remarkable  accomplishment.  Even  stronger 
and  more  vigorous  is  the  black-robed  man  facing 
him.  In  its  sharp  delineation  and  unflattering 
truth  it  is  evidently  a  portrait.  It  is  splendidly  mod- 
elled, firmly  and  knowingly  constructed.  This  with 
the  Pope  is  enough  to  mark  Pinturicchio  as  a  really 
great  portrait  painter. 

In  the  vaulting  of  the  room  are  eight  medallions 
with  figures  of  prophets.  These  are  surrounded 
with  lines  and  squares  of  ornament  made  of  ara- 
besques, curves,  and  scrolls,  with  everywhere  the 
conventionalised  bull  and  the  arms  of  Alexander 
VI.    It  is  a  wonderfully  beautiful  and  harmonious 


72  Ube  Htt  ot  tbe  iDattcan 

effect  of  exquisite  tone,  the  blues  and  greens  and 
chocolate  shades  almost  dissolving  into  the  gold. 
The  bull,  so  frequently  appearing,  was  a  device 
belonging  to  the  Borgia  family  from  the  thirteenth 
century. 

A  marble  doorway  with  a  lunette  above,  in  which 
two  delightful  putti  bear  a  shield,  leads  to  the  Hall 
of  Saints.  There  the  decoration  is  much  more  or- 
nate, inventive,  and  imaginative  than  in  the  preced- 
ing chamber,  and  in  the  paintings  there  is  far  more 
action,  better  grouping,  more  poetic  feeling,  and 
lovelier  colour.  The  principal  frescoes,  besides  the 
legends  of  the  saints,  are  scenes  from  the  Old  and 
New  Testament. 

Over  the  door  is  Susannah  and  the  Elders.  In 
the  centre  of  the  lunette  a  boy  holding  a  dolphin  is 
perched  on  the  top  of  a  fanciful  fountain  enclosed 
in  a  little  rose-bordered  garden.  Within  the  plot 
are  various  animals,  —  a  stag,  hares,  a  monkey  on 
a  gold  chain,  a  doe.  In  front,  a  little  to  the  left, 
stand  Susannah  and  the  two  elders.  Her  position 
is  that  of  the  Venus  of  Milo,  reversed.  With  her 
white  clinging  garments  that  fall  in  unbroken,  sim- 
ple folds,  she  is  as  lovely  a  creation  as  can  be 
imagined.  Quiet,  reposeful,  though  an  elder  grabs 
her  furiously  by  each  arm,  she  is  entirely  unafraid 
and  unexcited.  The  modelling  of  her  face  and  arms 
and  hands  is  fine,  soft,  and  delicate,  her  figure  is 


Ube  JSotdia  Hpattmcnts  73 

beautifully  drawn,  her  face  winsome.  The  two 
elders  are  executed  with  energy,  and  are  full  of 
character.  Beyond,  on  the  left,  the  maiden  is  again 
seen,  hurried  to  execution  by  guards  in  fifteenth 
century  costume,  while  slightly  behind  her  Daniel 
prances  up  on  a  wihite  steed  to  intervene  in  her  be- 
half. On  the  other  side  the  elders,  bound  to  a  tree, 
are  being  stoned  to  death.  Even  a  small  child  is 
throwing  with  all  his  might  as  big  rocks  as  he  can 
handle.  The  landscape  is  painted  with  a  fascinating 
minuteness,  that,  though  making  each  part  in  itself 
enchanting,  has  spoiled  the  coherence  of  it  as  a 
whole. 

The  next  panel  to  this  represents  St.  Barbara*s 
escape  from  the  tower  where  her  father  has  con- 
fined her.  The  tower  itself,  not  altogether  a  happy 
piece  architecturally,  occupies  the  centre  of  the  pic- 
ture, and  displays  on  its  side  the  big  break  that 
furnished  the  way  of  escape  for  the  young  saint. 
At  the  left,  with  her  fair  hair  and  draperies  flying, 
St.  Barbara,  calling  upon  Heaven  for  help,  has  just 
fled  through  the  opening.  Her  father,  with  scimiter 
in  hand,  is  hunting  for  her  in  the  wrong  direction 
on  the  other  side,  while  of  the  two  guards  behind 
him,  one  apparently  sees  the  fugitive,  and  is  glad 
of  her  release.  In  the  distance,  her  hand  clasped  in 
her  protector's,  Santa  Giulia,  the  young  saint  has 
got   beyond   her   pursuers.      Opposite    again,    the 


74  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

father  is  interrogating  a  shepherd,  and  this  unfortu- 
nate, evidently  confessing  to  having  seen  her,  is 
turned  in  consequence  into  marble.  To  convey  the 
idea  he  is  painted  all  white.  The  landscape  back- 
ground adds  to  the  naive  gaiety  of  the  picture. 
The  bright  colours  and  charmingly  flowiered  fore- 
ground, the  delicate,  dainty  saint,  give  an  unreal, 
fairy-like  effect  to  the  whole  scene. 

Facing  this  is  the  lunette  holding  the  visit  of  St. 
Anthony  to  Paul  the  hermit.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
successful  of  this  highly  successful  set.  In  front  of 
a  tall,  rocky,  natural  archway,  the  two  saints  are 
breaking  the  loaf  which  the  raven  has  brought. 
Behind  the  hermit  are  two  disciples  in  white  robes, 
and  behind  St.  Anthony  three  demon  women.  They 
are  extravagantly  dressed,  but,  except  for  their  bat- 
like wings,  horns  sprouting  from  their  towering 
head-dresses,  and  claws  instead  of  feet,  they  might 
be  merely  fashionable  women  of  the  world.  The 
last  of  the  three,  with  head  thrown  back  and  hands 
pressed  against  her  waist,  is  really  a  lovely  figure, 
with  a  piquant,  childlike  face.  St.  Anthony  is 
scrupulously  drawn,  his  robes  splendidly  handled. 
The  hermit  and  disciples  seem  to  show  the  brush 
of  a  pupil. 

The  Visitation  has  a  delicate,  pervasive  charm 
that  is  hard,  perhaps,  to  localise  or  fully  explain,  yet 
which  is  the  very  heart  of  the  picture.    Florid,  light 


DEMON    WOMEN 


Detail  from  Visit  of  St.  Anthony  to  Paul,  by  Pinturicchio ;  in  the 
Hall  of  Saints 


tibe  JSorgia  Hpartments  77 

architectural  forms,  open  arches  and  loggie  above, 
fill  up  a  large  part  of  the  space.  In  front,  clasping 
hands,  stand  Mary  and  Elizabeth,  the  younger's 
head  and  eyes  down,  Elizabeth  gazing  at  her  with 
the  intent,  piercing  look  that  all  the  old  painters 
give  her.  They  are  dressed  in  the  conventional 
blue  and  green  robes,  and  each  is  capitally  drawn 
and  modelled.  The  calm,  peaceful  dignity  of  Mary 
is  especially  well  indicated.  At  her  side  Joseph 
leans  upon  a  staff,  and  behind  him  appears  a  train 
of  children  and  pages.  The  other  half  of  the  com- 
position carries  the  most  charming  group  of  all. 
Zacharias,  backing  up  against  one  of  the  pillars,  is 
reading,  oblivious  to  all  that  is  taking  place  before 
him.  Under  the  arches  a  number  of  maidens  and 
elderly  women  sit  spinning  and  embroidering,  while 
behind,  a  girl  holds  a  distaff,  and  a  child  plays  with 
a  dog  in  the  foreground.  The  figures  are  well 
drawn  and  grouped,  and  they  all  have  that  soft, 
restful  beauty  that  seems  particularly  "  Pinturic- 
chiesque."  The  gradations  in  the  landscape,  the 
softened  colours  of  the  distance,  combine  to  make 
this  one  of  the  most  satisfactory  of  the  sequence. 
Here,  as  in  every  room,  the  light  is  so  bad  that  it 
is  very  difficult  to  get  any  good  view  of  the  frescoes. 
It  is  particularly  hard  to  see  the  Martyrdom  of  St. 
Sebastian,  which  in  some  ways  is  the  most  vigorous 
and  displays  the  most  knowledge  of  all.    Strapped 


78  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

with  his  hands  behind  him  to  a  pillar  in  the  centre 
of  the  big  lunette  over  the  window,  is  Sebastian. 
His  head  and  eyes  are  lifted  upward,  and  he  seems 
to  see  the  angel  who,  in  the  sky,  brings  him  hope  and 
comfort.  The  solidity  and  excellent  modelling  of 
forms  of  this  nearly  nude  figure  are  almost  unex- 
pected from  the  hand  of  such  a  quattrocentist  as 
Pinturicchio.  On  either  side  the  archers  are  shoot- 
ing or  stringing  their  bows,  all  in  leisurely  unemo- 
tional attitudes,  suggesting,  as  has  been  said,  a 
jovial  shooting-match  rather  than  an  execution. 
One  archer  on  the  right  stands  with  his  bow  resting 
on  the  ground,  his  eyes  turned  to  the  sky,  perhaps 
to  indicate  regret  for  his  part  in  the  tortures.  All 
the  figures  are  spirited,  one  of  the  best  being  the 
archer  back  to  on  the  left  who  is  just  about  to  let  an 
arrow  fly.  The  landscape  proves  that  Pinturicchio 
studied  the  Roman  surroundings.  In  the  distance 
is  the  Colosseum,  to  the  right  a  church,  and  in  front 
a  broken  marble  column.  It  was  the  first  time  that 
any  artist  attempted  to  render  the  sad  beauty  of 
the  Roman  landscape. 

The  principal  wall  of  this  room  has  the  finest 
of  all  Pinturicchio's  works.  It  is  called  the 
Dispute  of  St.  Catherine,  and  shows  her  in  an  out- 
door court  before  the  Emperor  Maximian  and 
fifty  philosophers,  to  whom  she  declares  her  beliefs 
with  a  serenity  and  poise  unequalled.     The  centre 


ST.    CATHERINE 

Detail  from  Dispute  of  St.  Catherine,  by  Pinturicchio ;  in  the  Hall  of 

Saints 


Ube  JSorgta  Hpartments  Si 

of  the  lunette  is  taken  by  the  Arch  of  Constantine, 
crowned  by  a  golden  bull.  In  front  of  this  are  the 
doctors  and  philosophers  and  princes  and  their  reti- 
nues, pages,  and  children,  and  the  emperor  on  his 
richly  ornamented  throne.  Here  Pinturicchio's 
fancy  has  revelled  with  a  joyous  abandon,  a  riotous 
floridity  that  yet  never  becomes  meretricious. 
Robes  are  heavily  embossed  and  embroidered,  and 
edged  with  gold,  trappings  of  horse  are  jewel- 
studded,  the  ground  is  covered  with  delicate,  starry 
flowers,  the  very  trees  are  blossom-laden.  The 
emperor  sits  in  untroubled  judicial  attitude  on  his 
throne  at  the  left,  with  a  crowd  of  courtiers  behind 
him.  Directly  in  front  is  the  slender,  youthful, 
beautiful  Catherine,  the  rest  of  the  great  assemblage 
filling  nearly  the  whole  of  the  remaining  space  of 
the  lunette.  Some  are  searching  their  books,  some 
are  instructing  their  pages  to  look  for  certain  notes, 
some  are  merely  listening  to  the  young  saint's  dis- 
course, while  others  are  discussing  among  them- 
selves. Of  all  the  young  and  old,  children,  horses, 
and  dogs,  St.  Gatherine  is  the  only  woman  in  the 
whole  congregation.  Straight,  willowy,  undismayed, 
robed  in  a  magnificent  brocaded  gown,  her  long, 
fair  hair  hanging  to  her  waist,  she  is  marking 
the  points  on  her  fingers.  There  are  many  portraits 
among  the  crowd ;  in  fact,  it  is  probable  that  a  large 
part  of  the  heads  are  representations  of  what  were 


82  UM  Hrt  of  tbe  IDatlcan 

well-known  personages.  At  the  extreme  right  is  one 
of  the  most  noticeable  figures  of  all,  a  Turk  on  a 
white  charger.  He  is  so  much  in  the  foreground  that 
he  and  his  steed  almost  dominate  the  scene  by  their 
size  and  brilliancy.  The  horse,  splendidly  modelled, 
the  gorgeous  saddle-cloth,  golden-studded  harness, 
and  the  extraordinarily  heavy,  gold-stuccoed  dress 
of  the  rider,  all  combine  to  make  the  two  of  startling 
prominence.  He  is  supposed  to  represent  Prince 
Djem,  son  of  Sultan  Mohammed  II.  Catherine  is 
thought  to  be  a  portrait  of  Lucrezia  Borgia,  the 
famous  daughter  of  Alexander  VL,  whose  beauty 
has  been  extolled  as  noisily  as  her  crimes.  If  this 
looks  at  all  as  she  did  then,  when  she  was  about 
fifteen,  there  certainly  was  nothing  to  indicate  in 
face  or  figure  the  wickedness  with  which  she  was 
afterward  charged. 

The  ceiling  of  this  room  is  as  worthy  of  careful 
study  as  the  more  prominent  wall  frescoes.  Unfor- 
tunately, besides  the  necessity  for  either  standing 
on  one's  head  or  constantly  using  a  mirror  to  see 
these  vaulting  decorations,  the  light  is  so  bad  that 
to  obtain  any  adequate  idea  of  them  is  extremely 
difficult.  Divided  by  the  framing  bars  are  eight 
large,  triangular  spaces,  in  which  are  scenes  illustrat- 
ing the  myth  of  Isis  and  Osiris,  which,  because  of 
the  history  it  contains  of  the  deification  O'f  the  bull, 
was  undoubtedly  chosen  to  symbolise  the  exaltation 


Ube  JSotgia  Hpartments  83 

of  the  house  of  Borgia.  The  w|hole  ceiling  is  a 
maze  of  golden  stucco  work  intermingled  with  the 
paintings,  even  the  separating  bars  being  marvels  of 
intricate  decoration.  The  first  of  the  divisions 
devoted  to  King  Osiris  shows  him  ploughing  with 
bulls,  and  teaching  the  Egyptians  to  plant  orchards 
and  vineyards ;  then  comes  his  marriage  to  Isis ;  in 
the  following  the  warriors  throw  their  unused 
armour  into  a  corner,  while  a  fat  putto  is  astride  a 
swan,  —  this  last  undoubtedly  copied  from  a  recently 
discovered  antique;  the  wicked  brother  persuades 
the  Egyptians  to  mutiny ;  farther  on  poor  Isis  finds 
the  scattered  legs  and  arms  and  body  of  her  mur- 
dered husband;  next  comes  his  burial;  after  that 
a  pyramid  is  erected  to  him ;  finally  his  apparition  is 
deified  in  the  form  of  the  bull  Apis ;  and  the  history 
ends  in  a  procession,  with  the  bull  borne  in  triumph. 

The  whole  room  is  an  entrancing  vision.  It 
appears  that  certain  parts  of  the  execution,  espe- 
cially in  the  smaller  designs,  were  left  to  Pinturic- 
chio's  assistants.  But  he  undoubtedly  was  the  origi- 
nator of  the  designs,  and  his  presence  as'  supervisor 
is  more  strongly  marked  all  through  this  room  than 
in  the  Hall  of  the  Mysteries.  It  is  of  all  the  suite 
his  masterpiece. 

A  round  medallion  of  the  Mother  and  Child  is 
over  the  doorway  leading  into  the  Hall  of  Arts  and 
Sciences.    The  Madonna,  with  her  clear  eyes,  deli- 


84  Ube  Hrt  of  tbe  Datican 

cate  mouth,  and  rather  long  nose,  was  evidently 
studied  from  life.  She  is  apparently  the  one  whom 
Vasari  calls  a  portrait  of  Giulia  Farnese,  the  Pope's 
mistress.  But  his  claim  that  Alexander  VI.  was 
kneeling  in  adoration  before  her  seems  to  be  without 
foundation,  for  no  third  person  was  ever  painted 
within  the  circle.  The  child  is  daintily  constructed, 
dressed  in  a  tunic  to  his  knees,  intent  upon  his  book. 
Altogether  it  is  a  lovely  group,  and  adds  to  the  long 
list  of  triumphs  for  Pinturicchio'.  The  background 
is  gold,  and  the  borders  of  the  robes  and  even  the 
high  lights  are  of  the  shining  colour. 

The  ceiling  of  the  Hall  of  the  Arts  and  Sciences 
is  more  conventionally  mechanical  in  design,  but  is 
extremely  soft  and  harmonious  in  its  spacing  and 
colouring.  A  great  central  octagon  fills  a  large  part 
of  the  vaulting,  most  of  the  remaining  portions 
being  taken  by  two  triangular  divisions  on  each  side. 
What  is  left  is  given  over  to  borders  and  panels  of 
ornament,  in  which  grotesques  are  sparingly  used. 
Every  part  is  treated  minutely,  and  is  full  of  rich, 
conventional  designs,  yet  each  keeps  its  place  in  the 
general  scheme.  In  the  centre  of  the  octagon  are 
the  arms  of  the  Borgia  bordered  by  radiating  sun 
rays.  Everywhere  the  sign  of  the  family,  the  bull, 
appears.  The  wide  architrave  has  octagonal  medal- 
lions joined  by  oblong  ones  representing  the  virtue 
of  justice  and  other  sacred  and  legendary  scenes. 


ttbe  Borgta  apartments  85 

They  have  been  so  badly  hurt  by  damp  and  restora- 
tion that  there  is  httle  left  of  their  original  state.  In 
fact,  the  whole  of  this  room  has  suffered  more  from 
time  than  any  of  the  others.  Some  of  the  scenes 
have  been  almost  wholly  and  very  badly  repainted. 
Each  of  the  seven  principal  panels  on  the  walls 
contains  a  woman  on  a  high  architectural-backed 
throne.  About  the  base  are  the  disciples  of  the  art 
or  science  which  the  throned  woman  personifies. 
Beyond  is  a  softly  tinted  landscape,  with  a  blue  and 
gold  embossed  sky.  These  calm,  thoughtful,  con- 
templative beings  are  far  removed  from  the  world. 
They  are  the  very  spirit  of  the  art  or  science  they 
typify. 

^  Rhetoric  is  a  graceful,  youthful  figure,  holding  a 
sword  in  one  hand  and  a  globe  in  the  other.  These 
same  emblems  are  in  the  hands  of  two  stocky  little 
putti  on  each  side  of  the  platform  on  which  her  feet 
rest.  Above,  two  other  putti  hold  the  drapery  over 
the  top  of  the  throne.  Three  men  stand  on  the  left 
and  right,  one  of  whom  on  the  left  may  be  meant 
for  Cicero.  There  are  traces  of  Perugino's  style  in 
this  painting,  and  it  is  very  possible  that  Pinturic- 
chio  took  some  of  the  figures  from  drawings  he  had 
received  from  Perugino.  Rhetoric  is  unusually 
lovely,  with  soft  hair  falling  away  from  her  face, 
and  with  a  bright  look  in  her  questioning  eyes.  The 
drapery,  too,  is  wiell  massed. 


86  Ube  art  of  tbc  IDattcan 

Geometry  sits  more  nearly  full  face,  holding  her 
square  and  compass.  There  are  no  putti  in  this 
lunette,  and  their  place  is  taken  at  the  foot  of  the 
throne  by  the  bald-headed  Euclid,  dressed  in  red, 
drawing  a  diagram.  In  the  extreme  left  corner  is 
a  figure,  which  is  probably  a  portrait  of  Pinturicchio. 
Several  of  the  disciples  about  Geometry's  throne 
show  pupils'  rather  than  Pinturicchio's  hand. 

The  loveliest  of  all  these  personified  arts  and 
sciences,  perhaps,  is  Arithmetic.  She  has  a  certain 
weary  air,  and  a  pensive  wistfulness  about  her  long, 
delicate  face  that  somehow  add  to  its  attractiveness. 
In  the  turn  of  her  neck  and  head  she  is  reminiscent 
of  Botticelli's  figures,  but  there  is  much  less  strain 
of  muscle  and  much  less  of  that  painter's  anaemic 
look.  The  transparent  veil  half  covers  the  hair  that 
falls  over  a  beautiful  gold-embroidered  robe,  hang- 
ing in  softly  indicated  folds.  The  figures  standing 
near  the  throne  are  vividly  drawn,  and  their  robes 
are  as  carefully  painted  as  their  faces.  Here  are 
the  colours  Pinturicchio  so  delighted  in,  the  rich 
pinks,  dull  blues,  and  soft  greens.  Here  also  is  a 
real  attempt  at  massing  the  light  and  shade. 

Another  delightful  creation  is  Music,  though 
with  not  quite  the  delicate  bloom  of  Arithmetic. 
She  is  playing  upon  a  violin,  her  lids  drooped,  a  soft, 
introspective  smile  upon  her  lips.  Her  head-dress, 
with  the  knots  of  thin  drapery  over  her  ears,  recall 


tibe  Borgia  apartments  87 

Botticelli  again,  and  perhaps  even  more  strongly, 
Perugino.  There  are  four  charming  putti  in  this 
group,  two  standing  on  the  steps  at  her  feet  playing 
flutes,  while  two  above  hold  up  the  rich  green 
drapery.  Tubal-cain,  forging  musical  instruments, 
and  two  other  old  men  are  on  the  right,  while  on 
the  left  are  seen  three  joyous  boys,  one  playing  a 
harp,  one  a  lute,  and  one  singing.  Through  all 
these  groups  are  a  charming  spontaneity  and  unity, 
and  one  feels  a  gaiety  and  pleasure  in  them,  as  in 
few  other  paintings  of  the  quattrocento. 

Astrology  is  badly  damaged.  The  restorations 
make  it  practically  impossible  to  tell  what  was  Pin- 
turicchio's  part  in  it,  but  it  seems  doubtful  if  any 
of  it  was  worthy  of  him.  The  four  putti  who  hold 
wands  with  the  signs  of  heavenly  bodies  on  their 
tips  are  too  heavy  and  clumsy  for  the  charming 
babies  he  could  paint  so  well.  Equally  unhappy  are 
the  groups  on  each  side  who,  separated  from  the 
principal  figure  by  the  rocky  landscape,  have  no 
connection  with  the  scene  in  which  they  were  placed. 

Grammar  and  Dialectics  are  also  both  badly  mod- 
ernised. The  period  of  this  flagrant  retouching, 
judging  from  the  dragon  by  the  side  of  the  central 
octagon,  and  which  is  probably  the  crest  of  the 
Buoncompagni,  was  therefore  in  the  pontificate  of 
Gregory  XIII. 

Between    Rhetoric    and    Geometry    the    Borgia 


88  Ube  Hrt  ot  the  IDatican 

scutcheon,  surmounted  by  the  keys  and  tiara,  is  set 
in  a  stucco  frame,  supported  by  three  full-length 
angels.  The  grace  and  freedom  of  their  figures, 
the  rhythmic  lines  of  their  flying  draperies,  and  the 
excellent  drawing  make  this  as  beautifully  perfect 
and  decorative  a  group  as  there  is  in  the  whole  set 
of  rooms. 

The  next  two  chambers,  which  are  alike  in  archi- 
tecture, are  those  called  the  "  withdrawing  rooms." 
They  are  far  more  simple  in  decoration  than  the 
others. 

The  first  has  a  ceiling  of  geometrical  designs  and 
grotesques,  below  which  is  a  frieze  of  twelve  half- 
length  figures,  two  by  two,  of  apostles  and  prophets. 
Each  prophet  holds  a  scroll  with  a  prophetic  saying, 
and  the  apostles  carry  one  with  a  sentence  of  the 
creed  upon  it.  A  mediaeval  legend  credited  to  each 
apostle  one  sentence  of  the  creed,  and  each  is  here 
supposed  to  hold  the  one  originated  by  him. 

In  the  second  room  sibyls  are  paired  with 
prophets,  each  pair  surrounded  with  ribbons  upon 
which  are  written  the  early  prophecies  of  the  Church, 
concerning  the  birth  of  the  Redeemer.  These  rib- 
bons are  treated  in  a  decorative  way  to  fill  up  the 
spaces,  and  were  traditional  with  painters  of  the 
fourteenth  and  fifteenth,  centuries. 

The  figures  in  these  two  rooms  are  much  restored, 
and,  compared  with  the  earlier  ones,  stiff  and  archaic. 


Ube  Borgia  Hpartments  89 

A  few  of  them,  however,  have  the  Pinturicchian 
head-dress  and  gestures,  as  well  as  certain  lines  and 
folds  of  the  drapery  characteristic  of  him.  Zach- 
arias  has  a  noble  face  with  heavy  tumbled  hair,  and 
is  not  an  unworthy  predecessor  of  the  mighty  ones 
of  the  Sistine  Chapel.  Though  these  halls  are  not 
up  to  the  grand  scale  of  the  others,  they  show  a 
coherency  and  a  harmony  that  make  them  an  inte- 
gral part  of  the  whole.  In  the  window  recesses  of 
the  Hall  of  the  Creed  are  marvellous  decorative 
schemes,  w;here  fishes,  masks,  fauns,  cupids,  flowers, 
and  musical  instruments  are  mixed  and  mingled  and 
twisted,  with  astonishing  ingenuity.  It  was  in  the 
Borgia  apartments  where  were  first  used  the  gro- 
tesques and  fanciful  borders  afterward  so  exten- 
sively and  masterfully  employed  by  Raphael  in  the 
loggie. 

In  these  rooms,  the  triumph  of  Pinturicchio,  in 
spite  of  all  the  limitations  and  defects  of  his  art, 
he  shows  "a  self-restraint  and  a  feeling  for  effect 
which  are  unerring,  he  hits  upon  the  exact  size,  and 
keeps  the  composition  exactly  within  the  picture,  and 
at  the  right  distance  from  the  eye."  They  "  are  a 
rich  yet  unobtrusive  setting,  they  do  not  compel 
your  attention,  but  only  give  the  impression  of  a 
refined  splendour  of  surrounding,  of  a  marvellous 
insight  into  beautiful  harmony  of  colour.  The  effect 
of  the  light  has  been  so  nicely  calculated  that  even 


90  XTbc  Hrt  of  tbe  IDattcan 

when  freshly  executed,  the  wialls  would  not  have 
been  overbrilliant  for  the  brilliant  scenes  to  which 
they  formed  the  background."  "  Everywhere  we  are 
aware  of  the  vigilant  and  sensitive  grasp  of  the 
master's  hand  upon  his  tools,  and  allowing  for  all 
shortcomings  of  detail,  we  cannot  but  feel  that  here 
we  have  an  enviable  monument  for  a  painter  to  leave 
behind  him." 

In  the  Stanze  one  is  in  the  presence  of  an  art 
that  is  clear,  sane,  and  gloriously  happy,  full  of 
the  spirit  of  life  itself.  The  Sistine  breathes  a  very 
different  atmosphere.  Grand,  majestic,  awe-inspir- 
ing, telling  of  the  life  of  the  soul  in  the  travails  of  a 
weary  world,  are  the  messages  that  come  to  us  here. 
Neither  of  the  world  of  flesh,  of  mind,  nor  yet  of 
soul,  the  frescoes  of  the  Borgia  rooms  exhale  a 
delicate,  evanescent  perfume  that  comes  straight 
from  the  realms  of  phantasy,  full  of  the  glimmer  of 
will-o'-the-wisps  and  dancing  fireflies,  from  the 
over-  or  under-wrorld  of  elves  and  sprites  and  fairies, 
of  genii  and  dancing  loves. 


jEHAPTER  IV. 

THE    SISTINE    CHAPEL 

Jacopo  Pontelli,  a  Florentine,  has  generally 
been  credited  with  being  the  architect  of  the  Sistine 
Chapel,  built  abofut  1473.  Miintz,  however,  brings 
forward  some  late  discovered  documents  from  the 
archives  of  the  Vatican  that  seem  to  show  that  not 
PoDitelli  but  Giovanni  de  Dolci  was  responsible  for 
the  edifice.  Whoever  the  builder,  the  constructional 
lines  of  this  world-renowned  chapel  are  not  in  them- 
selves beautiful  or  scientifically  exact.  The  vault- 
ing is  irregular,  the  lighting  insufficient,  and  the 
general  proportions  insignificant.  The  decorations 
alone  are  what  have  made  this  small  sanctuary  one 
of  the  greatest  of  the  world's  treasure-boxes.  De- 
scribed literally,  it  is  a  barn-like,  slightly  vaulted 
room  less  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  long,  and 
not  quite  fifty  feet  wide.  On  each  side  are  six 
round-arched  windows,  directly  beneath  the  spring 
of  the  vaulting.  Below  these,  separated  by  painted 
pilasters,  are  the  side  frescoes  executed  during  the 
pontificate  of  Sixtus  IV.    From  a  cornice  running 

9« 


92  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

along  the  walls  below  are  painted  imitations  of 
heavy  hangings,  the  space  once  covered  by  Raphael's 
tapestries. 

The  twelve  side  frescoes  are  of  unequal  merit,  dif- 
fering schemes  of  composition,  and  once  must  have 
been  of  strongly  varying  colour.  Time,  ungracious 
to  them  individually,  has  treated  them  well  con- 
sidered as  a  decorative  whole.  The  general  effect  of 
these  twelve  works  of  the  quattrocewto  is  lofty  and 
surprisingly  harmonious.  The  colours  have  so 
faded  and  blended  that  now,  in  their  dull  blues  and 
grays  and  greens,  they  make  a  wonderfully  appro- 
priate and  sufficiently  unobtrusive  setting  to  the 
majestic  ceiling  above. 

Besides  these  twelve  panels  there  are  two  on  the 
entrance  wall,  and  originally  there  were  as  well 
three  by  Perugino  at  the  altar  end.  For  the  two 
opposite  the  altar  slight  consideration  is  required. 
One  by  Cecchino  Salviati  represents  Michael  victori- 
ous over  Satan,  bearing  away  the  body  of  Moses. 
The  other  is  the  Resurrection  by  Domenico  Ghir- 
landajo.  They  were  badly  disfigured  by  the  sinking 
of  the  architrave,  and  were  afterward  wretchedly 
repainted.  Above  the  line  of  frescoes  between  the 
windows  and  along  the  southern  end  at  the  same 
height,  Botticelli  and  his  assistants  painted  the 
figures  of  twenty-eight  Popes.  These,  though  doubt- 
less more  or  less  restored,  are  practically  as  they 


Ube  Ststine  Cbapcl 


93 


were  four  hundred  years  ago  and  are  the  least  inter- 
esting part  of  the  whole  decorative  scheme. 

The  subjects  of  the  wall  frescoes  on  the  left  are 
taken  from  the  life  of  Moses,  and  "  have  a  typical 
reference  to  the  corresponding  representations  "  on 
the  right,  illustrating  the  life  of  Christ.  Beginning 
from  the  altar,  the  order  is  as  follows : 


Left. 

1.  Moses  and  Zipporah  on  the 

Way  to  Egypt.  Attrib- 
uted to  Signorelli,  now 
thought  to  be  by  Pintu- 
ricchio. 

2.  Moses     Overcoming     the 

Egyptians  and  Driving 
away  the  Shepherds  from 
the  well.       Botticelli. 

3.  Moses  and  Israelites  after 

the  Passage  of  the  Red 
Sea.     Cosimo  Rosselli. 

4.  Moses    giving    the    Com- 

mandments from  the 
Mount.     C.  Rosselli. 

5.  Punishment  of  Korah,  Da- 

than,  and  Abiram.  Bot- 
ticelli. 

6.  Moses  Giving  .Commands 

to  Joshua.  Attributed  to 
Signorelli.  Probably  by 
Pinturicchio. 


Right. 

1.  Baptism    of    Christ.     At- 

tributed to  Perugino, 
probably  work  of  Pin- 
turicchio. 

2.  Christ's  Temptation.    Bot- 

ticelli. 


3.  Calling  of  Various  Apos- 

tles, from  Lake  of  Gen- 
nesareth.  Domenico 
Ghirlandajo. 

4.  Christ    Preaching   on   the 

Mount.     C.  Rosselli. 

5.  Christ  Giving  the  Keys  to 

Peter.     Perugino. 

6.  Last  Supper.     C.  Rosselli. 


94  Ubc  Hrt  of  tbe  Datlcan 

According  to  Vasari,  it  was  Botticelli  to  whom 
Sixtus  IV.  gave  charge  of  the  artists  at  work  in  the 
Sistine  Chapel.  His  three  frescoes  there  show  him 
at  his  worst  and  in  even  greater  measure  at  his  best. 
In  the  one  nearest  the  altar,  Moses  overcomes  the 
Egyptian  and  drives  away  the  shepherds  who  would 
prevent  the  daughters  of  Jethro  from  drawing  water. 
Here  is  the  crowding  of  incident  into  one  composi- 
tion so  usual  with  most  of  the  painters  of  the  quat- 
trocento. It  has  no  common  centre,  although  there 
is  a  distinct  middle  scene.  At  a  well,  Moses  pours 
water  from  the  bucket  into  a  trough  for  the  sheep, 
while  the  daughters  of  Jethro  stand  by  looking  on. 
Behind  this  the  Patriarch  is  seen  driving  away  the 
shepherds  who  had  troubled  the  maidens.  On  the 
right  of  the  central  scene,  Moses,  with  a  sword  held 
high,  again  appears,  standing  over  the  Egyptian 
whom  he  has  felled.  On  the  steps  of  a  classic  build- 
ing at  the  side,  the  Israelite,  wounded  by  the  Egyp- 
tian, sinks  into  the  arms  of  a  wbman.  Behind  this 
portico  Moses  flees  from  the  wrath  of  Pharaoh. 
Again  in  the  foreground  on  the  left  of  the  well  he 
leads  his  company  of  Israelites  out  of  Egypt.  Back 
of  this  incident  he  is  seen  kneeling  before  the  Burn- 
ing Bush,  within  which  the  figure  of  the  Eternal  ap- 
pears. To  the  right  of  that,  among  the  sheep  of 
Jethro,  he  removes  his  shoes  on  the  slope  of  one  of 
the  hills  that  help  to  outline  the  background.    A 


Ube  Sietine  Cbapcl  95 

bunch  of  trees,  rising  from  behind  the  well  and  be- 
yond, springs  up  to  the  top  of  the  fresco  and  assists 
in  drawing  the  multitude  of  scenes  into  something 
approaching  unity.  Regarded  from  the  standpoint 
of  true  composition,  this  is  not  one,  but  many  pic- 
tures. Yet  it  is  worth  remembering  that  any  attempt 
for  centralisation  of  composition  was  not  natural  to 
artists  of  this  day.  Botticelli  made  no  effort  to  pro- 
duce what  Raphael  instinctively  accomplished,  a  well 
massed  and  balanced  picture.  His  desire,  as  well, 
probably,  as  the  command  from  the  Pope,  was  to 
represent  as  many  incidents  in  one  panel  as  possible, 
in  order  that  the  story  of  Moses  might  the  more  per- 
fectly be  told.  Considering  his  aim,  he  has  really 
brought  together  the  various  moments  depicted  with 
a  good  deal  of  skill.  The  worst  thing  about  it  is 
the  lack  of  perspective  between  the  figures  of  the 
foreground  and  those  of  the  background.  These 
latter  are  of  course  inordinately  large.  When  the 
separate  groups  are  studied,  many  of  Botticelli's 
most  delightful,  characteristic  attributes  are  dis- 
covered. In  the  scene  about  the  well  he  shows  a 
grace,  an  idyllic  spirit,  that  is  remarkably  quiet  and 
serene  for  a  man  so  often  expressing  in  his  works 
the  intensity  of  subjective  emotion.  The  procession 
of  Israelites  is  no  less  full  of  dignity  and  simple 
movement,  with  individualistic  treatment  of  the 
various  members.     Moses,  with  his  calm  gravity, 


96  Zbc  Btt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

Aaron  intent  and  serious,  the  loving  mother  with 
her  unhappy  child,  the  pathetic  little  boy  carrying 
his  pet  dog  in  his  arms,  —  all  are  expressive  to  an 
intense  degree.  The  colour  of  the  picture  is  mostly 
in  gray  and  white,  emphasised  by  the  white  sheep, 
the  white  robes  of  the  maidens,  and  the  gray-white 
shades  of  the  buildings,  the  walls,  and  the  roadways. 
Moses,  in  the  background,  is  dressed  in  yellow;  in 
other  places  his  robe  is  an  olive  green  over  a  dull 
yellowi  There  are  many  more  blues  than  reds  in 
the  fresco,  and  the  sky  is  a  deep  indigo,  growing 
white  near  the  edge  of  the  distant  blue  hills.  The 
foliage  of  the  oak-trees  (the  device  of  Sixtus  IV.) 
and  most  of  the  landscape  are  a  dark  green. 

Farther  on  along  the  same  side  comes  the  Pun- 
ishment of  the  False  Priests.  In  the  foreground, 
at  the  right,  Moses,  with  upraised  hand,  denounces 
the  one  who  blasphemed.  By  his  side  the  offender 
tries  to  protect  himself  from  the  indignant  group  of 
men  who  are  armed  with  stones.  A  fire  is  burning 
on  the  centre  altar,  and  gathered  round  it  are  the 
deceiving  priests,  Korah,  Dathan,  and  Abiram. 
Before  them,  Moses  with  lifted  rod  calls  upon  God 
for  their  punishment.  Already  they  have  fallen 
back,  dropping  their  censers,  one  grovelling  on  the 
ground.  Just  behind  them,  and  at  the  left,  Aaron  is 
swinging  his  censer.  Again,  Moses  bends  with  con- 
demnatory hand  over  the  defilers  of  the  temple. 


Zbc  Sisttne  CbapeX  99 

while  the  earth  is  opening  and  swallowing  the 
sinners.  The  centre  middle  distance  has  a  fine 
Roman  arch  going  to  the  top  of  the  picture,  at  the 
right  is  a  ruined  building  with  many  Corinthian 
pillars,  and  beyond  a  line  of  sea-broken  coast.  Here 
the  three  episodes  are  even  less  connected  than  in 
the  other  fresco.  The  separate  groups,  however,  are 
fine,  —  extreme  violent  action  contrasting  with  dig- 
nified calm.  The  architectural  background  is  splen- 
didly done,  so  well  that  it  has  sometimes  been 
credited  to  Filippino  Lippi. 

Though  on  the  other  side  of  the  chapel  and  called 
the  Temptation  of  Our  Lord,  this  fresco  really  deals 
principally  with  the  Old  Testament.  In  front  of 
the  altar  erected  in  the  foreground,  a  young  man  is 
presenting  a  basin  to  the  High  Priest.  On  each 
side  of  these  two  are  men,  women,  and  children, 
bringing  in  bundles  on  their  heads,  or  talking  to 
each  other,  or  simply  looking  on.  Somewhat  back 
and  at  the  side  of  the  altar  is  the  leper  with  open 
shirt,  while  a  young  man  carefully  examines  him  to 
see  if  the  healing  has  begun.  A  white-haired  man 
kneels  in  front  of  them,  guessed  to  be  the  leper's 
father.  At  the  left  a  woman  comes  hurrying  in, 
bearing  on  her  head  a  bowl,  within  which  are  two 
birds  covered  with  a  cloth.  It  is  back  of  all  this 
that  the  scenes  of  the  Temptation  begin.  On  a  high 
cliff,  Satan,  dressed  in  cloak  and  cowl,  points  down- 


loo  zbc  art  ot  tbe  IDatican 

ward,  saying  to  Christ  beside  him,  "  If  thou  be  the 
Son  of  Grod,  command  that  these  stones  be  made 
bread."  In  the  next  scene  Satan  has  brought  Jesus 
to  the  pinnacle  of  the  Temple,  supposed  to  be  San 
Spirito,  and  signs  to  him  to  cast  himself  dowia 
Then,  at  the  right,  upon  a  mountain,  Christ  stands 
with  lifted  arm,  bidding  the  Devil  begone,  and  the 
fiend,  revealed  in  his  own  true  character,  throws  him- 
self down  the  cliff.  After  this,  angels  come  to 
minister  to  the  Lord.  The  landscape  is  used  remark- 
ably well,  and  the  architectural  features  are  finely 
rendered.  The  fresco  as  a  whole  is  crowded  with 
figures,  and  at  the  first  it  seems  as  if  no  one  and  no 
group  was  particularly  distinctive.  Yet  before  long 
one  sees  that  here  and  there  a  figure  by  its  inherent 
dignity  or  grace  of  line  and  pose  does  stand  out  and 
becomes  at  once  so  accentuated  to  the  vision  that 
involuntarily  it  absorbs  one*s  mind  ever  after.  Such 
is  the  girl  bearing  the  scarlet-bound  bundle  of  cedar 
and  hyssop  on  the  right.  Such,  too,  is  the  child  at 
her  feet,  who  has  dropped  one  of  his  load  of  grape 
bunches  in  his  fright  at  finding  a  snake  just  curling 
about  his  leg.  The  group  also  of  the  Master  with 
the  angels,  on  the  left,  where  he  points  out  the  leper, 
is  full  of  a  tender  grace  and  dignity.  It  is  sug- 
gested that  this  theme,  the  Cure  of  the  Leper,  was 
chosen  in  compliment  to  Sixtus  IV.,  who  had  built 
San  Spirito  as  a  hospital  for  lepers. 


Ube  Ststine  Cbapel  loi 

It  is  now  believed  that  of  the  frescoes  once  sup- 
posed to  be  by  Perugino,  only  the  Delivery  of  the 
Keys  is  really  his  work.  The  others,  once  credited 
to  him,  as  well  as  the  two  formerly  supposed  to  be 
by  Signorelli,  the  majority  of  critics  assign  to  Pin- 
turicchio,  the  painter  of  the  Borgia  Apartments.- 

Of  these,  the  Journey  of  Moses  has  as  many  sepa- 
rate divisions  in  subject  as  have  the  Botticelli  fres- 
coes. Nevertheless,  it  has  a  certain  cohesiveness 
which  these  lack,  and  as  a  decorative  piece  it  is 
charming.  An  angel  is  in  the  very  centre  of  the 
foreground,  planted  firmly  upon  wide-stretched  legs, 
his  head  in  profile,  his  figure  nearly  back  to.  Rising 
up  almost  to  the  top  of  his  head,  his  wings  sweep 
nearly  to  his  knees.  Standing  there  with  command- 
ing arm,  he  forms  an  effectual  break  and  yet  a  con- 
nection between  the  group  starting  on  their  journey 
headed  by  Moses,  and  the  ceremony  of  circumcision 
carried  on  at  the  right.  Behind,  Jethro  and  his 
daughters  are  taking  leave  of  Moses,  and  farther 
back  still  the  shepherds  are  dancing  on  the  green. 
At  this  time  Pinturicchio  painted  such  landscape  as 
no  other  man  had  succeeded  in  equalling  in  charm 
of  sentiment  or  delicate  colour.  In  this  panel  are 
the  purple-shadowed  hills  sloping  with  golden 
gleams  to  the  winding  stream,  the  soft  stretches  of 
field,  and  the  decorative  trees,  all  so  characteristic  of 
the  prince  of  landscape  painters  of  the  quattrocento. 


102  Zbc  Htt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

The  Baptism  of  Christ  is  more  crowded  with 
figures,  and  there  is  less  connection  between  them. 
There  are  again  the  charming  landscape  background 
and  the  carefully  studied  groups  of  portrait-like 
figures.  Indeed,  the  solidity  and  firmness  of  drawing 
and  the  enchanting  expression  of  many  of  the  heads 
are  among  the  best  wiork  Pinturicchio  ever  did. 
The  central  foreground  group  shows  John  pouring 
the  water  upon  the  head  of  Christ,  a  carefully  and 
painfully  modelled  nude  figure.  Over  the  Saviour's 
head  is  a  dove,  and  above  in  the  sky  the  Almighty, 
completely  framed  into  a  round  filled  with  cherubs^ 
heads.  The  sky  is  sprinkled  with  more  of  these,  and 
on  each  side  is  an  adoring  angel  with  flying  draperies. 
In  the  middle  distance,  Christ  is  twice  shown,  both 
times  preaching  from  a  height  to  enormous  crowds 
surging  below.  Many  people  also  are  watching  the 
baptism,  and  numbers  of  these  are  evidently  por- 
traits. They  have  been  repainted  so  many  times, 
and  are  now  so  dark  and  grimy,  that  little  remains 
to  show  what  they  once  were.  The  charm  of  the 
landscape,  however,  is  still  felt,  as  well  as  the 
decorative  parts  of  the  whole. 

The  one  that  has  so  long  been  attributed  to 
Signorelli,  is  Moses  Giving  the  Laws  to  the  People. 
On  the  right,  raised  on  a  stone  platform,  Moses,  now 
an  old  man,  reads  to  a  big  concourse  of  the  Israel- 
ites.   Here  are  interesting,  characteristic  faces  and 


Zbc  Slstine  Cbapel  105 

carefully  studied  forms,  all  executed  with  the  tech- 
nical knowledge  that  Signorelli  alone  of  that  age 
was  supposed  to  possess.  Almost  merging  into  this 
crowd  at  the  left,  Moses,  surrounded  by  the  elders 
and  leaders,  gives  over  his  command  to  Aaron,  who 
kneels  in  heavy-hearted  reverence  before  him.  Be- 
hind the  central  assemblage,  Moses  has  been  shown 
the  distant  promised  land,  and,  leaning  heavily 
upon  his  staff,  is  just  turning  from  the  directing 
angel.  There  are  great  pathos  and  originality  in  his 
fine  old  figure,  as  with  bent  head  he  goes  down  the 
hill.  Rarely  lovely,  too,  is  the  angel  above  showing 
the  tottering  old  man  the  land  he  is  never  to  reach. 
Finally,  at  the  left,  with  only  the  sky  and  a  few 
scattered  trees  for  background,  they  are  laying  the 
faithful  servant  to  his  rest.  Throughout  the  whole 
of  this  composition  the  individual  groups  are  full 
of  a  feeling  that  never  lacks  inherent  strength. 

As  a  composition,  Christ  Giving  the  Keys  to 
Peter  is  considered  to  be  Perugino's  greatest  work. 
It  is  as  coherently  arranged,  is  within  as  definite 
lines,  and  carries  the  eye  of  the  spectator  -straight  to 
what  is  intended  for  the  central,  and  is  the  all- 
pervading  idea  of  the  picture,  as  any  of  Raphael's 
own  works.  In  front  of  Christ  kneels  Peter,  receiv- 
ing the  key.  The  deep  fervour  of  the  disciple,  the 
splendid  fall  of  his  drapery,  the  careful  study  and 
rendering  of  his  figure,   are  all  wonderfully  ex- 


io6  Zbc  Htt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

pressed.  Even  more  remarkable  an  aciiievement  is 
the  Christ.  The  lines  of  his  drapery  are  incredibly 
Ipeautiful.  The  big,  simple,  wide  spaces  that  lead 
into  the  deep  shadow-making  folds  are  emphasised 
by  the  lighter  half-tones  of  the  less  marked  plaits. 
The  poise  and  swing  of  the  figure  are  grandly  noble, 
the  head  pathetic  and  full  of  the  soft  beauty  of  the 
Christ-ideal  of  the  fifteenth  century.  On  each  side 
of  him  are  the  apostles,  and  beyond  them  others. 
Behind,  the  pavement  of  the  Piazza  of  San  Pietro 
extends  far  in  the  rear  to  the  great  Basilica  of  Bra- 
mante.  A  mighty  arch  finishes  the  architectural 
background  on  each  side,  and  between  these  and  the 
foreground  groups  are  other  figures,  running,  walk- 
ing, talking,  getting  smaller  and  smaller  as  they  near 
the  distant  buildings.  Back  of  all  stretches  the 
Umbrian  landscape  with  softly  sloping  hills  and 
single  stiff  trees.  It  is  what  we  may  justly  call 
modern  painting,  —  strongly  in  contrast  even  to  the 
best  of  the  other  frescoes.  Here  is  space,  vast,  illim- 
itable, only  bounded  by  the  sky  itself.  Here  is 
atmosphere,  here  is  the  strong,  balanced  composi- 
tion, one  part  treated  in  relation  to  its  bearing  upon 
another,  here  are  figures  in  true  perspective,  and  all 
making  more  telling  the  central  idea  of  the  whole. 
Next  to  this  must  rank  Ghirlandajo's  Calling  of 
Peter  and  Andrew.  Better,  stronger,  more  perfect 
in  every  way  than  any  of  the  rest,  it  is  doubtful 


Zbc  St0tine  dbapel  107 

if  even  one  of  Perugino's  figures  can  compare  with 
the  dignity  and  inherent  grandeur  of  Jesus,  recalling 
as  it  does  that  by  Masaccio  in  the  Tribute  Money. 
Behind  Jesus  stand  James  and  John,  and  before 
him  kneel  Peter  and  Andrew,  to  whom  the  Master 
is  speaking.  The  crowd  of  spectators  on  each  side 
and  beyond  is  admirably  massed,  and  the  chiaroscuro 
is  far  in  advance  of  the  other  frescoes  on  the  walls. 
On  the  shores  of  the  lake  behind,  Christ  is  shown 
again,  with  the  fishing-boats  beyond.  There  is  a 
distant  view  of  promontories  and  hills  settling  down 
to  the  water's  edge.  As  is  usually  true  of  Ghir- 
landajo,  his  colour  is  too  bricky,  and  he  has  worked 
over  his  shadows  till  they  are  leaden.  But  in  chiaros- 
curo, balance  of  parts,  nobility  of  figure,  strength 
of  mass  and  line,  he  has  done  splendid  work. 

It  is  said  that  of  all  the  paintings  in  his  chapel 
Sixtus  IV.  admired  those  of  Cosimo  Rosselli  most. 
R ossein  won  this  admiration  easily.  Far  below 
his  companions  in  talent,  he  at  least  realised  two 
important  things.  First,  that  unless  his  short- 
comings could  be  somewhat  covered  up,'  his  medi- 
ocrity would  be  patent  to  all,  and  next,  that  the  Pope 
particularly  loved  all  kinds  of  grandeur  and  display. 
Consequently,  and  for  both  reasons,  his  panels  were 
a  mass  of  richest  gilding.  Robes,  crowns,  archi- 
tecture, even  the  high  lights  on  flesh,  were  all  made 
of  gleaming  gold.     The  Pope  saw  the  prodigal, 


io8  ube  Hrt  of  tbe  Dattcan 

kingly  lavishness  of  the  precious  metal,  and  loved  it. 
Others  must  have  had  little  chance  amid  the  dazzling 
display  to  see  the  weaknesses  and  faults  beneath. 

Of  the  four  the  Last  Supper  is  the  worst.  The 
curving  table,  the  three  windows  above  with  the 
landscape  seen  through,  the  figures  automatically 
placed  about  the  board,  without  dignity  and  with 
no  grace,  the  bad  colour,  make  it  what  it  unques- 
tionably was  from  the  beginning,  in  spite  of  papal 
encomium,  —  a  failure. 

The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is  the  least  unsuccess- 
ful. It  is  believed  that  his  pupil,  Piero  di  Cosimo, 
is  responsible  for  the  landscape  of  rolling  hills,  de- 
tached trees  and  roofs  and  spires.  The  scene  shows 
many  separate  groups  listening  to  Jesus'  discourse, 
as  he  stands  upon  a  hillock  a  little  back  from  the 
centre  foreground.  His  drapery,  as  well  as  that 
of  most  of  the  others,  is  too  voluminous  and 
meaningless,  but  there  are  individual  figures  that 
have  both  charm  and  interest. 

The  Passage  of  the  Red  Sea  is  hopelessly  dull 
except  for  certain  single  figures,  where  are  some 
vigour  of  action  and  energy,  slightly  recalling 
Benozzo  Gozzoli. 

As  has  been  mentioned,  there  were  besides  these 
the  three  frescoes  by  Perugino  at  the  altar  end  of 
the  chapel.  No  drawings  of  them  are  known,  nor 
is  there  left  any  definite  description  of  them.     If 


ZDc  Sfsttne  Cbapel  109 

they  were  at  all  equal  to  the  Delivery  of  the  Keys, 
the  world  has  lost  much  in  their  total  disappearance. 
Only  their  subjects  are  left  to  us,  Moses  in  the  Bul- 
rushes, Christ  in  the  Manger,  and  between  the  two 
the  Assumption  of  the  Virgin,  in  which  Pope  Sixtus 
IV.  was  introduced. 

If  we  know  only  the  names  of  these  once  famous 
frescoes,  we  know  equally  little  of  the  designer  of 
the  beautiful  marble  screen  that  separates  that  part 
of  the  chapel  reserved  for  ecclesiastics  from  the  rest 
of  the  church.  Exquisitely  wrought,  of  most  lovely 
design,  who  did  it  or  when  is  not  told.  It  may  have 
been  the  work  of  the  architect,  it  may  have  been  the 
loving  labour  of  some  artist  long  forgotten  in  name, 
yet  for  ever  remembered  in  this  marble  creation,  — 
a  truer  expression  of  himself  than  any  accidental 
nomenclature. 

Such  was  the  chapel  when  in  1508  Julius  II.  com- 
manded Michelangelo  to  decorate  the  ceiling.  It  was 
Bramante,  we  are  told,  who  suggested  this  under- 
taking to  the  Pope,  Bramante,  who  for  the  sake  of 
his  young  protege,  Raphael  of  Urbino,  was  jealous 
of  the  unquestioned  preeminence  Michelangelo  had 
won  as  sculptor.  The  architect  thought,  so  Vasari 
gravely  states,  that  if  the  great  Florentine  could  be 
diverted  from  the  path  in  which  he  had  so  far  out- 
stripped all  others,  that  then  there  would  be  no  one 
to  compete  with  Raphael  for  the  Pope's  favour. 


ixo  XEbe  Hrt  of  tbe  IDatican 

Whether  this  is  literally  true  or  not,  at  least  it 
is  certain  that  Michelangelo  was  with  difficulty  per- 
suaded to  the  task.  He  had  already  purchased  the 
marble,  and  was  about  to  begin  the  wonderful  mau-  * 
soleum  Julius  had  before  ordered ;  he  was  no  painter, 
he  vowed,  and  he  at  once  suggested  that  the  young 
Raphael  could  much  better  do  the  work.  But  the 
Pope,  possibly  still  backed  by  Bramante,  would  ac- 
cept no  excuses.  He  would  have  no  mausoleum  while 
he  was  still  alive;  he  had  engaged  the  sculptor's  time, 
and  that  time  should  be  spent  on  nothing  but  the  ceil- 
ing of  the  chapel.  Thus,  grumbling,  and  with  much 
distaste,  the  great  sculptor  was  forced  into  becoming 
a  painter.  And  to-day,  the  fame  of  Michelangelo 
rests  not  so  much  on  the  works  of  sculpture  he  left 
behind,  wonderful  as  they  are.  It  is  the  marvel 
,  that  his  brush  wrought  above  the  line  of  those  of  the 
quattrocento  that  has  placed  him  beyond  all  com- 
petitors, as  far  away  from  the  striving  and  imita- 
tion of  those  who  came  after  as  it  is  from  all  who  had 
gone  before. 

This  so-called  ceiling  is  not  only  the  actual  roof- 
ing. It  extends  down  the  walls  to  the  line  where 
the  windows  begin  to  spring  into  their  arched  tops. 
The  central  part  of  the  ceiling  is  flat.  From  there 
it  is  slightly  vaulted,  the  pendentives  ending  between 
each  two  of  the  twelve  windows.  This  entire  smooth, 
easily  curved  surface  is  covered  with  painting  that 


Zbc  Si6titte  (Tbapcl  m 

leaves  not  one  square  inch  undecorated.  Unlike  the 
earlier  wall  paintings  of  the  Renaissance,  there  are 
no  large  spaces  or  even  intertwining  lines  given  over 
to  arabesques,  wreaths  of  flowers,  fruits,  gro- 
tesques, and  conventional  ornament.  Figures  — 
figures  everywhere.  For  background  or  separation, 
architectural  forms  alone  are  used.  No  ornament 
per  se.  With  his  brush  Michelangelo  built  a  struc- 
ture that,  springing  from  the  window,  rises  in 
grandly  conceived  lines,  a  "  temple  without  a  founda- 
tion," yet  so  artfully,  so  skilfully  designed,  that  one 
never  thinks  of  the  unreality  of  its  formation.  Pi- 
lasters, cornices,  platforms,  arches,  and  niches,  — 
it  is  scarcely  possible,  as  one  looks  upward,  to  sus- 
pect that  this  marble  edifice  is  but  a  simulation,  — 
nothing  but  brush  work.  It  is  no  wonder  that  the 
mere  mechanical  dexterity,  almost  the  mere  trick 
of  the  performance,  should  be  so  overpowering  that 
even  before  the  mighty  design  and  undermeaning  of 
the  whole  have  been  perceived,  one  exclaims,  "  Truly 
here  was  the  greatest  genius  of  the  sixteenth  or  of 
any  century." 

It  is  almost  impossible  in  words  to  give  a  compre- 
hensive idea  of  the  general  plan.  Very  roughly 
speaking,  it  may  be  said  to  consist  of  the  nine  panels 
illustrating  the  Genesis  story,  which  fill  the  central 
flat  part  of  the  vaulting.  From  this  curve  the  twelve 
pendentives  that  spring  from  between  the  windows. 


iia  tlbe  Htt  ot  tbc  IDattcan 

They  hold  the  five  sibyls  and  seven  prophets  seated 
upon  their  thrones.  Between  these  pendentives  are 
the  arched  spaces  on  the  walls  over  the  windows, 
and  the  triangular  lunettes  forming  the  under  sides 
of  the  pendentives,  and  capping  the  windows  visor- 
wise.  In  these  are  painted  the  ancestors  of  the  Vir- 
gin. But  such  a  bare  outline  coiitains  slight  idea 
of  the  effect  of  the  whole  composition,  where  every 
inch  is  filled  with  figures  or  architectural  forms,  yet 
so  combined  and  separated,  joined  and  detached,  that 
there  is  no  overcrowding  or  overelaboration.  The 
nine  central  panels  are  separated  from  each  other 
by  a  painted  framework  simulating  cornices  and 
pilasters.  Five  of  these,  including  one  at  each  end, 
are  much  smaller  than  the  other  four.  This  is 
accomplished  by  a  different  division  of  the  space 
allotted  to  them.  The  four  large  ones  are  simply 
framed  with  the  painted  cornice  that  takes  nothing 
from  the  picture  room.  The  five  smaller  ones  are 
over  the  prophets  and  sibyls  seated  in  the  penden- 
tives, between  the  windows.  On  each  side  of  these 
massive  throned  beings  are  two  boy  caryatids  stand- 
ing upon  a  double-based  plinth,  holding  a  cornice  on 
their  heads.  These  cornices  project,  in  painting,  it 
is  always  to  be  remembered,  into  and  out  from  the 
four  smaller  central  panels.  Upon  each  of  these 
cornices  is  seated  the  god-like  figure  of  a  nude 
youth,  making,  since  there  is  one  at  each  corner  of 


XTbe  St6ttne  Cbapel  "3 

the  panels,  twenty  in  all.  Each  two  hold  the  ribbons 
that  are  joined  to  a  round  medallion,  upon  which  are 
figures  in  relief.  In  some  cases  the  heads  or  arms, 
or  even  shoulders  of  these  seated  youths  project  into 
the  field  of  the  central  panel,  framed  otherwise  by 
a  simple  ribbing.  The  four  large  panels  are  over  the 
triangular  lunettes  above  the  arch  of  the  windows, 
and  completely  fill  the  space  between  the  two  sides, 
save  for  the  narrow  spandrels  made  by  the  point  of 
the  lunette,  the  rib  framework,  and  the  caryatids  on 
each  side.  Every  spandrel  holds  a  bronze-toned 
nude  figure,  no  two  alike,  in  all  conceivable  posi- 
tions, filling  the  three-cornered  space.  Below  the 
base  of  the  thrones  of  the  prophets  and  sibyls  are 
tablets  inscribed  with  their  names,  these  held  up  by 
youthful  figures,  in  some  cases  partially  draped. 
At  the  four  sloping  corners  of  the  ceiling,  coming 
between  the  side  and  end  windows  at  the  entrance 
end,  and  joining  the  altar  end  to  the  sides,  are  four 
scenes  supposed  to  be  the  four  promises  to  mankind 
before  the  advent  of  Christ.  Symonds  says :  "  An 
awful  sense  of  coming  doom  and  merited  damnation 
hangs  in  the  thunderous  canopy  of  the  Sistine  vault, 
tempered  by  a  solemn  and  sober  expectation  of  the 
Saviour."  There  is,  however,  in  this  chapel  no- 
where a  realisation  of  this  expectation.  Despair, 
doom,  destruction,  from  the  first  temptation  to  the 
final  judgment,  Michelangelo  deals  not  with  hope, 


"4  Zbc  Htt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

but  with  the  deserved  retribution  for  misspent 
years.  As  has  been  said,  the  very  elect  of  Paradise 
show  Uttle  of  hope  or  joy.  It  is  the  power,  might, 
and  resistless  force  of  God,  not  his  love  or  condona- 
tion, that  the  painter  has  blazoned  forth.  The  sin, 
the  pride,  the  weakness  of  man,  rather  than  his 
aspiration  or  his  spiritual  achievements.  And,  as 
has  been  often  remarked,  nowhere  on  the  ceiling 
is  the  charm,  the  soothing  spirit,  or  the  tenderness 
of  woman  displayed.  No  matter  how  much  those 
anxious  to  see  every  perfection  in  the  works  of 
Michelangelo  have  praised  the  face  and  figure  of 
Eve,  it  is  nevertheless  true  that  at  the  farthest 
stretch  of  imagination  she  is  neither  beautiful,  nor 
does  she  have  any  of  that  soft  feminine  enchantment 
that,  for  instance,  might  answer  to  the  "  ewig  weib- 
liche,"  present  even  in  the  most  doughty  of  Wagner's 
heroines.  The  sibyls  are  majestic,  mighty,  inscrut- 
able, an  incarnation  of  insight,  knowledge,  and 
power,  —  woman  not  sublimated  so  much  as  rein- 
carnated in  an  entirely  sexless,  if  highly  vitalised 
form.  And  in  spite  of  their  majestic  calm  and  force- 
ful, puissant  grandeur,  one  finds  not  hope  so  much 
as  a  stern  integrity,  a  lofty  purpose  far  and  away  re- 
moved from  joy  or  gladness.  No  —  in  the  whole 
immense  series  bearing  the  name  of  the  most  solitary 
genius  that  ever  lived,  it  is  only  in  the  figures  of  his 
youthful  men  that  we  find  any  of  the  gladness,  the 


ONE     OF     THE     "  YOUNG     ATHLETES  ' 
By  Michelangelo;  from  Sistine  Ceiling 


XTbe  Ststtne  Cbapel  "7 

spring,  and  the  elixir  of  life.  And  the  Sistine,  in 
spite  of  its  overwhelming  tragic  significance,  has  in- 
numerable figures  of  these  youths.  In  the  twenty 
young  "  athletes,"  holding  the  ribbons  of  the  medal- 
lions in  the  central  vaulting,  the  twenty-four  bronze 
figures  filling  the  spandrels,  or  the  forty-eight 
"  twinned  caryatids,"  —  the  youthful  male  is  shown 
in  every  variety  of  movement,  position,  and  expres- 
sion. Above  all,  they  express  some  of  the  mere 
physical  joy  of  living,  as  well  as  mental  exuberance. 
The  faces  of  the  twenty  central  youths  are  very 
wonders  for  their  sensitive,  entrancing  beauty,  with 
eyes  through  which  the  soul  shines  seekingly.  But 
most  of  all  it  is  the  rhythmic  poetry  that  controls 
their  limbs,  the  grand  lines  of  their  thorax,  the  very 
electricity  that  seems  to  throb  through  every  inch 
of  the  pulsating  flesh  —  it  is  the  physical  manifesta- 
tion of  the  ecstasy  of  merely  being  that  is  the  most 
compelling  thing  about  them. 

The  story  of  the  nine  central  panels  begins  at  the 
altar  end  of  the  chapel.  At  the  opposite  end,  Michel- 
angelo commenced  his  work,  and  the  first  three  di- 
visions are  filled,  with  much  smaller  figures  than  the 
rest.  It  is  supposed  that  when  so  far  along,  he  real- 
ised that  the  effect  from  below  would  be  much  more 
impressive  with  fewer  and  larger  figures.  The 
first  of  the  series,  in  the  story,  is  directly  over  Jonah, 
the  prophet  on  the  pendentive  that  gives  the  double 


"8  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  Dattcan 

arch  to  the  altar  end  of  the  chapel.  This  is  one  of 
the  smaller  panels,  and  at  its  corners  are  four  of  the 
beautiful  seated  youths,  each  one,  it  seems,  more 
beautiful  than  his  neighbour.  The  Creation  of  Light 
gives  Jehovah  in  a  whirling  cloud  of  drapery,  his 
figure  thrown  diagonally  across  the  panel,  and  nearly 
completely  filling  it.  As  in  all  the  paintings  of  the 
Renaissance,  He,  the  Creator,  is  represented  very 
nearly  as  one  would  represent  a  patriarch  of  Israel, 
with  flowing  beard  and  heavy  white  mane  of  hair. 
Ineffectual,  and  often  weak  and  undignified  as  most 
of  these  portrayals  are,  they  are  very  different  under 
the  compelling  genius  of  Michelangelo.  Considering 
the  feeling  and  custom  of  the  time,  it  is  not  too 
much  to  say  that  in  these  pictures  of  the  beginning 
of  all  things,  he  has  created  a  Jehovah  such  as  never 
before  nor  since  has  been  done  by  the  brush  of  man. 
There  is  something  very  Godlike  and  awe-inspiring 
in  the  powerful  frame  that  yet  floats  as  easily  in 
the  firmament  as  if  it  were  merely  part  of  the  ether 
about  it. 

The  second  panel  is  the  Creation  of  the  Sun  and 
Moon.  Here  God  is  presented  in  two  positions.  In 
the  right  hand  division,  attended  with  angels,  he  is 
sweeping  forward  through  the  sky,  both  arms  ex- 
tended, the  forefinger  of  his  right  hand  resting 
momently  upon  the  great  globe  that  half  rises  above 
the  ribbed  framework.     At  the  other  side  he  is 


ZEbe  g?t6ttne  Cbapel  "9 

rushing  through  space  away  from  the  spectator,  with 
one  hand  Hfted  over  a  mass  of  vegetation  that 
appears  near  the  left-hand  corner  of  the  fresco. 

In  the  third,  "  He  is  hovering  over  the  waters,", 
as  Grimm  expresses  it,  this  time  again  with  the  ac- 
companying angels.  And  "  hovering  "  exactly  de- 
scribes the  soft  floating  movement  wath  which  he 
rides  the  air,  both  hands  flung  out,  his  head  with 
its  heavy  masses  of  hair  and  beard  bent  downward 
with  a  brooding  tenderness  that  mingles  with  the 
infinite  power  of  the  face.  The  sweep  of  his  mantle 
behind  him,  the  whirling  clouds  about,  all  are  full 
of  the  very  spirit  of  the  Almighty  himself. 

The  fourth  panel  is  probably  the  most  celebrated  of 
all.  The  Creation  of  Man  gave  Michelangelo  an 
unsurpassed  chance  to  represent  what  he  loved  best 
of  all,  the  perfect  figure  of  a  young  man.  Nothing 
more  perfect,  it  may  well  be  imagined,  could  be  con- 
ceived than  this  first  man  half  reclining  on  the 
mountain  top,  not  yet  awakened  sufficiently  to  stand 
upon  his  feet.  The  attitude  of  Adam  is  no  less 
beautiful  than  his  beautiful  figure.  He  has  just 
raised  himself  upon  his  right  elbow,  the  action  twist- 
ing the  upper  part  of  his  body  round  into  full  face, 
with  his  left  leg  drawn  sharply  up.  It  is  the  prelim- 
inary poise  before  arising.  Not  for  more  than  a 
moment,  one  would  think,  could  he  hold  the  attitude. 
Yet  so  full  of  ease,  grace,  and  unexpended  strength 


I20  XLbc  Htt  of  tbe  IDatican 

is  it  that  any  sense  of  strain  or  weariness  is  entirely 
lacking.  And  indeed  weariness  is  the  last  thing  to 
be  thought  of  in  connection  with  that  superb  young 
body.  If  the  muscles  have  been  so  far  unused,  they 
have  nothing  of  flabby  softness  about  them.  Firm, 
gloriously,  evenly  developed,  Michelangelo  here 
shows  none  of  the  exaggeration  of  flesh  and  form 
of  which  sometimes  even  at  his  greatest  he  is  guilty. 
Poised  above  Adam  is  the  Almighty.  His  far  out- 
reaching  hand  has  almost  touched  the  answering 
hand  of  Adam.  One  can  fairly  feel  the  pulsing, 
throbbing  life  that  will  respond  to  that  magnetic 
touch.  Behind  Jehovah  is  a  tremendous,  swirling 
cloud  of  drapery,  and  sheltered  within  it  and  pro- 
tected by  his  encircling  arm,  are  some  exquisite  child 
angels,  gazing  with  eager,  loving  eyes  at  the  man 
figure  below.  God  is  draped  in  a  robe  that  covers 
but  does  not  hide  his  form.  Every  curving  line  is 
felt  through  the  clinging  robe.  The  colour  of  it  is 
a  lucent  violet  gray,  as  if  woven  of  clouds.  His  face 
expresses  infinite  benignity,  without  joy,  almost, 
perhaps,  without  hope. 

The  next,  the  Creation  of  Eve,  is  one  of  the  small 
divisions  with  the  four  splendid  youths  on  the  ped- 
estals at  the  corners.  These  graceful,  lovely-faced 
figures  have  much  more  charm  than  the  certainly 
heavy  and  decidedly  matronly  form  of  Eve.  She, 
apparently  just  sprung  from  Adam's  side,  is  half- 


^        OF  THE       ^r 

UNIVERSITY 


trbe  Slstlne  Cbapel  123 

kneeling  with  clasped  hands  before  the  Eternal. 
This  time  the  Lord  is  walking  upon  the  earth  he 
has  created,  and  here  he  is  more  than  ever  like  a 
patriarch  of  the  tribe  of  Israel.  Wrapped  in  a 
voluminous  garment,  which  he  draws  with  one 
hand  close  about  him,  with  the  other  he  admonishes 
or  instructs  this,  his  last  creation.  Adam  lies  in  a 
slightly  raised  position  on  the  side  of  the  hill,  still 
sunken  in  slumber.  Not  to  be  profane,  one  can  not 
help  wondering  how  he,  in  his  magnificent  young 
beauty  and  elasticity,  will  regard  this  somewhat 
stocky,  rather  coarse-lined  femininity  bestowed  upon 
him. 

A  double  story  is  in  the  sixth  compartment,  that 
of  the  Temptation  and  the  Expulsion  from  Paradise. 
The  fatal  tree  of  knowledge  fills  the  centre  of  the 
composition.  Around  its  trunk  are  wound  the  fat, 
yellow  folds  of  an  enormous  serpent,  that  up  in  the 
branches  end  in  the  figure  of  a  woman.  She  is 
reaching  down  an  apple  to  Eve,  who,  seated  facing 
in  the  opposite  direction,  has  twisted  herself  round 
and  is  eagerly  stretching  up  her  hand  for  the  fruit. 
Standing  beside  her,  pulling  down  a  branch  with 
one  hand,  with  the  other  Adam  is  feeling  amor^ 
the  leaves.  It  is  quite  —  begging  Herr  Grimm's 
pardon  —  as  if,  whether  Eve  had  taken  the  apple 
or  no,  it  would  have  been  but  a  few  minutes  before 
her  mate  had  secured  a  taste  of  the  coveted  fruit. 


124  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  Datican 

Here  Eve  is  slighter  than  in  the  former  panel,  and 
by  so  much  loss  of  flesh  so  much  more  attractive. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  tree,  the  angel  with  aveng- 
ing sword  pushes  the  guilty  pair  from  paradise. 
The  wonderful  realism  of  the  two  cowering  figures 
is  beyond  words.  Nothing  more  real  to  the  sense 
of  touch  as  well  as  to  sight  can  be  imagined.  The 
two  sinners  exist  here  with  a  corporeal  certainty 
that  almost  makes  them  more  living  than  the  living 
themselves.  They  are  equally  impressive  in  their 
attitudes  and  expressions.  Adam  strides  forward 
with  arms  thrown  protestingly  backward  as  if  im- 
ploring the  angel.  Despair  and  terror  are  on  his 
face  as  he  hurries  on.  Eve  on  the  other  side  is  more 
cowering  than  Adam,  but  perhaps  less  despairing. 
Head  and  back  bent,  hair  flying  about  her,  she 
has  drawn  up  her  arms  in  a  very  terror  of  shame, 
clutching  her  golden  tresses  with  her  hands.  But, 
in  spite  of  shame  and  terror,  she  has  ventured  to 
look  back  curiously  at  the  angel.  One  is  tempted 
to  think  she  has  still  a  sense  of  the  possibilities  that 
may  lie  before  her. 

The  seventh,  eighth,  and  ninth  frescoes,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  smaller  figures  that  fill  them,  are 
that  much  less  effective.  First  of  the  master's  work, 
it  is  only  after  the  last  of  the  three  that  he  seems  to 
have  entered  into  the  labour  with  both  surety  and  en- 
thusiasm. The  one  next  to  the  Expulsion  from  Para- 


Zbc  Sisttne  Cbapel  "S 

dise  is  the  Sacrifice  of  Noah.  Here,  behind  the  altar 
stand  Noah  and  his  wife,  while  his  sons  and  ser- 
vants are  preparing  the  animals  for  slaughter,  and 
brightening  the  fire. 

The  following,  being  the  last  of  the  four  larger 
ones,  is  a  scene  of  the  Deluge.  The  lack  of  concen- 
tration and  point  of  focus  that  are  often  felt  in 
Michelangelo's  designs  are  here  extremely  apparent. 
Up  to  a  wind-swept  barren  cliff,  with  one  naked 
tree  at  the  far  left,  the  doomed  people  are  strug- 
gling, clinging  to  their  chattels,  their  children,  or 
each  other.  One  wretch  has  climbed  the  tree  and  is 
hanging  there  with  desperate  hands.  Beyond,  the 
flood  rages,  threatening  destruction  to  a  small,  over- 
loaded boat  in  the  centre  of  the  torrent,  and  steadily 
rising  higher  over  a  rocky  embankment  where  are 
more  despairing  mortals.  One  man,  who  is  walking 
through  the  shallows  to  the  higher  ground,  carries 
another  flung  over  his  shoulder,  the  limpness  of  the 
body  wonderfully  expressed.  Farther  beyond,  rides 
the  ark,  triumphant.  The  lack  of  centrality  in  the 
composition  is  counterbalanced  by  the  remarkable 
construction,  modelling,  and  attitudes  of  the  individ- 
ual figures. 

The  last  of  the  series,  the  first  of  Michelangelo's 
labours,  is  the  Drunkenness  of  Noah.  Stretched  out 
asleep,  half-lifted  on  his  elbow,  the  old  man  lies,  the 
aspirations  and  the  virtues  of  his  earlier  days  for- 


ia6  Ube  Hrt  of  tbe  Dattcan 

gotten.  One  of  his  sons  stands  deriding,  while  the 
other  two  cover  him  with  a  mantle.  At  the  corners 
of  this  picture  are  left  only  three  of  the  four  young 
"  athletes."  The  other,  except  for  head  and  foot 
and  part  of  a  leg,  has  been  entirely  wiped  away. 
The  fascinating  beauty  of  the  head  that  is  left,  makes 
its  destruction  doubly  mournful. 

On  the  pendentive  over  the  altar  sits  Jonah,  with 
his  head  and  upper  part  of  his  torso  thrown  far  back 
and  twisted  to  his  right.  The  left  arm,  brought 
sharply  across  the  body  over  to  the  right  hand,  em- 
phasises the  double  action  of  the  figure.  There  is 
some  of  the  exaggeration  of  form  here  that  Michel- 
angelo is  so  often  accused  of,  but  it  does  not  spoil 
what  is  a  very  beautiful  as  well  as  a  powerful 
figure.  At  the  prophet's  right  is  a  conventionalised 
whale,  —  scarcely  larger  than  Jonah's  thigh,  and 
above  the  animal's  head  are  two  children. 

At  the  extreme  other  end,  on  the  pendentive  be- 
tween the  simulated  windows  of  the  entrance-wall, 
is  the  Prophet  Zacharias.  He  is  an  old  man,  bearded 
and  sitting  in  profile,  with  heavy  draperies,  lifting 
the  book  he  is  reading  in  both  hands  close  to  his 
eyes,  while  behind  him  stand  the  two  children  genii, 
their  hands  clasped  as  they  read  over  his  shoulder. 

Between  these  two,  on  each  side  of  the  wall,  are 
placed  the  other  five  prophets  and  five  sibyls.  On 
the  right  of  the  entrance  are  Joel,  Erythraea,  Eze- 


ttbc  St6tlnc  Cbapcl  127 

kid,  the  Persian  Sibyl,  and  Jeremiah.  On  the  left 
are  the  Delphic  Sibyl,  Isaiah,  the  Cumsean  Sibyl, 
Daniel  and  the  Libyan  Sibyl.  The  most  beautiful 
of  the  prophets,  perhaps,  are  Jeremiah,  Isaiah,  and 
Daniel,  and  of  the  sibyls  the  Delphic,  Erythraean 
and  Libyan. 

No  two  of  any  of  these  are  alike  in  pose  or 
drapery.  When  one  considers  the  twenty  seated 
youths  of  the  ceiling  and  these  twelve  seated  figures 
here,  it  is  not  one  of  the  least  astonishing  of  Michel- 
angelo's feats  that  he  could  vary  pose  and  movement 
so  remarkably. 

Jeremiah,  the  first  on  the  left  of  the  altar,  as  one 
faces  the  entrance,  is  sitting  squarely  in  full  face, 
his  feet  crossed  beneath  his  robe,  his  chin  buried  in 
his  right  hand,  with  the  elbow  on  his  knee,  the  other 
hand  falling  loosely  into  his  lap.  The  eyes  are  cast 
down,  too,  and  the  simple,  dignified  attitude  ex- 
presses a  thoughtfulness  as  deep  as  it  is  far  from 
pleasant  anticipation.  The  whole  position  is  that 
of  careworn  weariness.  From  the  virile,  sinewy 
hands  to  the  broad,  strong  shoulders,  and  the  grand, 
aging  head,  the  characterisation  is  as  clear,  marked, 
and  decisive  as  the  drawing  is  faultless,  masterly. 
The  two  genii  are  behind  him,  and  their  heads,  too, 
are  drooped  as  if  in  sympathetic  appreciation. 

Farther  along  on  the  same  side  is  the  Ery- 
thraean Sibyl,  sitting  nearly  in  full  profile,  with  her 


128  XTbe  Htt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

knees  crossed,  her  left  hand  turning  the  leaves 
of  a  big  book  on  a  stand  beside  her.  Her  right 
hand  is  dropped  at  her  side.  She  is  a  youthful  but 
matronly  figure,  of  full  form  yet  not  heavy,  with  an 
earnest,  questioning  face.  Her  noble  head,  large 
eyes,  and  curving  lips,  are  full  of  a  meditative  calm 
that  adds  to  the  abstraction  of  the  figure.  Behind 
her  a  boy  stands  blowing  at  a  firebrand,  with  which 
he  is  to  light  her  lamp. 

On  the  other  wall,  exactly  opposite  this,  is  the 
prophet  Isaiah.  He  is  in  what  would  be  full  face 
if  it  were  not  that  he  had  turned  his  head  toward 
his  right  shoulder,  listening  to  one  of  the  two 
small  boys  behind  him.  This  boy  is  charmingly 
piquant,  and  his  face  has  a  roguish  charm  as 
he  gazes  at  the  prophet  and  motions  far  away 
with  his  right  arm.  Leaning  with  his  left  elbow 
upon  a  book  which  he  partly  holds  open  with  the 
fingers  of  his  right  hand,  Isaiah  is  a  splendid  speci- 
men of  manhood  scarcely  beyond  youth.  Grace  and 
life,  vigour  and  thought,  are  in  every  line  of  the 
proud  head  and  form.  There  is  a  certain  feeling  of 
loftiness  about  him,  a  sort  of  aristocratic  calm,  that 
would  well  become  "  the  noblest  Roman  of  them  all." 

Next  to  him,  toward  the  entrance,  sits  the  Delphic 
Sibyl,  perhaps  more  universally  considered  a  beauti- 
ful woman  than  any  other  feminine  figure  Michel- 
angelo ever  drew.    And  beautiful  beyond  doubt  she 


XTbe  Ststine  (Tbapcl  "9 

is,  with  besides  a  sort  of  weird,  supernatural  attrac- 
tion. It  is  difficult  to  think  of  her  as  mere  woman. 
Her  youth  and  the  soft  curves  of  cheek  and  lip, 
the  wide,  deep  eyes,  are  all  full  of  a  significance 
and  comprehension  beyond  the  ken  of  normal 
womanhood.  She  is  placed  with  her  body  slightly 
in  profile,  but  her  head  is  turned  full  to  the  spectator. 
With  her  left  arm  she  holds  up  a  scroll,  the  lower 
part  of  which  touches  the  right  knee.  This  throws 
the  arm  straight  across  her  body,  bringing  the  elbow 
out  beyond  the  plane  of  her  face.  Her  right  hand 
has  fallen  on  to  her  knee,  partly  closed  and  holding 
a  bit  of  drapery.  At  her  side  are  the  two  accom- 
panying boys,  one  reading  to  the  other  whose  head 
alone  is  visible  over  the  sibyFs  shoulders.  There 
is  a  sweep  to  her  drapery  that  answers  to  the  spirit 
in  her  glorious  eyes.  Some  unearthly  zephyr  has 
surely  stirred  the  scarf  on  her  shoulders,  and  set  in 
gentle  waves  the  Ipose  hair  that  curls  down  her 
shoulder. 

At  the  far  other  end  of  the  line  is  the  Libyan 
Sibyl,  of  almost  equal  though  more  mature  beauty. 
She,  as  Vasari  says  of  this  extraordinarily  conceived 
figure,  "  having  completed  the  writing  of  a  large 
book  taken  from  other  volumes,  is  on  the  point  of 
rising  with  a  movement  of  feminine  grace,  and  at 
the  same  time  shows  the  intention  of  lifting  and 
putting  aside  the  book,  a  thing  so  difficult  that  it 


ISO  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

would  certainly  have  proved  impossible  to  any  other 
than  the  master  of  this  work."  This  double  move- 
ment is  wonderfully  indicated,  and  is,  perhaps,  the 
greatest  marvel  of  the  creation.  Though  one  foot 
is  bent  under  her,  and  the  other  is  lifted  on  the 
toes,  yet  the  motion  to  rise  has  not  so  far  actually 
brought  her  from  her  seat.  It  is  this  amazing  choice 
of  the  moment  of  the  action  that  prevents  any  strain 
in  the  position,  or  any  sympiathetic  ache  in  the  spec- 
tator. There  can  be  felt  neither  the  weariness  of 
a  too  long  continued  movement  or  a  sense  of  anxi- 
ety as  to  when  the  strain  will  be  over. 

Younger  than  Isaiah,  imposing  as  Jeremiah,  with 
a  grace  almost  equal  to  the  Delphic  Sibyl,  Daniel 
sits  upon  the  next  throne.  The  big  book,  which 
partly  rests  upon  his  lap,  is  mostly  supported  by 
the  arms  and  shoulders  of  a  charming  naked  boy 
standing  between  Daniel's  knees.  Sitting  full  face, 
but  bending  to  the  right,  Daniel  is  inscribing  some- 
thing upon  the  tablet  on  the  block  beside  him.  He 
is  scanning  his  lines  with  great  earnestness,  and  he 
has  flung  his  left  arm  over  the  book  in'  his  lap,  so 
that  the  wrist  helps  to  keep  it  in  position.  The  ease, 
freedom,  grace,  and  splendid  swing  of  the  figure 
are  a  triumphant  achievement  even  for  Michelangelo. 
Nothing  more  real,  more  perfect  in  line  and  mass, 
could  be  dreamed  of.  The  head  of  the  prophet  is 
somewhat  round,  with  a  wide,  full  forehead,  from 


DANIEL 
By  Michelangelo ;  from  Sistine  Ceiling 


Zbc  Sisttne  Cbapel  133 

which  his  hair  is  tumbled  backward  as  if  but  a  mo- 
ment before  he  had  run  impatient  fingers  through 
it.  His  face  is  in  nearly  three-quarters,  the  eyes 
are  down,  a  slight  pressure  about  the  lips  expressing 
the  intentness  with  which  he  works.  But  the  most 
beautiful  thing  about  him,  perhaps,  is  the  left  hand 
hanging  over  the  edge  of  the  book.  Those  fine,  firm 
sinews  and  muscles,  the  curve  of  the  wrist  bone,  the 
hang  of  the  fingers,  the  swelling  muscle  of  the  fore- 
arm, —  surely  nothing  could  be  a  better  example 
of  the  gifts  and  attainments  of  this  master  of  the 
human  form. 

In  the  arches  over  the  windows  is  what  Vasari 
calls  the  genealogy  of  the  patriots,  giving  the  an- 
cestors of  Christ,  beginning  with  the  sons  of  Noah. 
These  are  all  in  various  positions  in  many  kinds  of 
draperies,  but  mostly  of  full,  abundant  lines.  In 
every  arch,  directly  in  the  centre  over  the  window, 
is  a  tablet  with  the  names  of  the  persons  represented. 
This  disposition  of  the  space  leaves  only  the  curve 
of  the  sides  for  the  figures.  The  positions  necessary 
for  this  are,  therefore,  generally  seated  ones,  though 
often  children  are  introduced  standing  singly  or  in 
pairs  at  the  feet  of  the  adult  forms.  The  hand  of 
time,  the  restorer,  and  the  bad  light  make  these  very 
difficult  to  decipher.    . 

Somewhat  better  preserved,  but  still  more  difficult 
to  see,  are  the  figures  in  the  tympana  or  spandrels 


134  XTbe  Htt  of  tbe  Dattcan 

between  the  points  of  the  lunettes  and  the  sibyls. 
These  are  the  bronze  nudes  exactly  filling  those  nar- 
row spaces.  Attitudes  again  so  free,  so  full  of 
subtile  distinction  and  change,  that  any  account  of 
them  sufficient  for  full  description  would  require 
pages. 

The  four  scenes  in  the  four  corners  of  the  vaulting 
are  painted  in  very  unequal  divisions  of  peculiar 
angles,  and  although  with  many  individual  figures 
of  great  beauty,  do  not  come  up  to  the  ceiling  as  a 
whole.  They  represent  the  deliverances  of  the  Jewish 
nation. 

Judith,  with  the  head  of  Holofernes,  has  much 
grace  and  simplicity.  The  victim  is  on  a  couch  at 
the  right,  with  feet  toward  the  observer.  The  result 
is  that  in  the  shadow  about  the  upper  part  of  his  body 
the  absence  of  the  head  is  not  noticed.  At  the  left, 
hurrying  from  the  open  door,  is  Judith,  turning  to 
look  back  at  the  body.  Or  perhaps  she  is  shrinking 
from  the  laden  salver  borne  by  the  maid  in  front  of 
her.    Her  figure  is  fine. 

The  Elevation  of  the  Brazen  Serpent  gives  a 
whirling  mass  of  legs  and  torsos  and  arms  that, 
while  w^ell  filling  the  angular  interspace,  leaves  one 
confused  and  with  no  clear  idea  of  the  subject. 

The  Crucifixion  of  Haman  has  some  wonderful 
foreshortening,  and  a  masterly  drawing  of  the  nude 
figure  squarely  in  the  centre. 


Ibe  Sistine  Cbapel  135 

David  Killing  Goliath  is  almost  archaic  in  its  sim- 
plicity. 

Kugler  says  the  "  so-called  Genealogy  of  the  Vir- 
gin, occupying  not  alone  the  arches,  but  the  spandrels 
above  the  windows  as  well,  is  a  succession  of  groups 
of  a  simple  and  domestic  kind,  showing  no  distinct 
event,  but  rather  that  form  of  family  life  so  familiar 
in  pictures  of  the  time,  but  not  otherwise  treated 
by  the  great  master,  and  offering  interesting  points 
of  comparison  with  Raphael." 

The  colours  of  the  whole  chapel  have  faded,  the 
plaster  is  cracked  from  end  to  end,  there  is  scarcely 
a  two-inch  space  free.  The  cleanser  has  washed 
with  ignorant  hands  the  very  life  away  from  some 
of  the  choicest  parts.  Yet  the  cool  grays,  the  dull 
browns  and  golds  and  reds  and  greens  are  not  so 
ruined  as  to  be  displeasing.  This  general  submerg- 
ing of  the  colours  gives  it  perhaps  a  more  architec- 
tural and  so  a  more  monumental  character.  The 
might  of  the  whole  conception,  the  power  of  the 
presentation,  the  marvellous  majesty  of  the  entire 
roofing,  this  it  is  that  makes  mere  words  of  descrip- 
tion utterly  weak,  inadequate,  futile.  One  can  de- 
scribe it  no  more  nearly  than  one  can  write  descrip- 
tions of  the  greatest  of  Beethoven's  symphonies. 
One  can  explain  it  as  little  as  one  can  explain  Ham- 
let. Power,  majesty,  might  —  neither  before  nor 
since  has  the  brush  thus  triumphed.    It  is  the  crown- 


136  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

ing  work  of  the  greatest  mind  that  was  ever  in 
artist's  body. 

Thirty  years  after  the  completion  of  this  ceiling, 
Michelangelo  was  once  more  at  work  in  the  Sistine. 
The  three  altar  frescoes  of  Perugino  were  washed 
from  the  wall,  and  the  Last  Judgment  begun.  The 
pendentive  of  the  vaulting  upon  which  Jonah  is 
throned  divides  the  top  of  the  fresco  into  two 
arches.  Within  them  are  crowds  of  angels  hold- 
ing the  instruments  of  the  Passion.  Together  they 
form  two  immense  wreaths  of  figures,  repeating 
in  reverse  the  curves  of  the  arches.  In  the  upper 
part  of  the  centre  of  the  composition  is  Christ, 
seated  within  an  ellipse-shaped  glory.  Beside  him 
is  Mary.  About  them  is  a  circle  of  prophets, 
patriarchs,  apostles,  and  saints,  and  beyond  space 
and  light.  The  curving  outlines  of  the  spheres 
of  the  blessed  sweep  down  into  a  vast  arch,  above 
which  is  Heaven,  below,  Earth  and  Hell.  Orig- 
inally all  the  figures  were  nude,  but  while  Michel- 
angelo was  still  living,  the  Pope  had  Daniele  da 
Volterra,  a  follower  of  Michelangelo,  put  draperies 
on  many  of  them.  He  was  called  in  consequence 
**  II  Bragghettone,"  the  breeches-maker.  Afterward, 
in  the  time  of  Pius  V.,  Girolamo  da  Fano  continued 
the  process  started  by  Da  Volterra. 

The  plane  in  the  picture  below  that  where  the 
imrtyrs  surround  Christ,  is  made  of  three  masses. 


LAST   JUDGMENT 
By  Michelangelo;  in  Sistine  Chapel 


OF  THE      '^P 

UNIVERSITY 


Ubc  Si^tinc  Cbapel  139 

The  central  section  is  held  by  a  band  of  gigantic 
cherubs,  who,  blowing  furiously  upon  long  trumpets, 
are  waking  the  dead.  The  forceful  gusto  of  these 
announcers  of  the  Day  of  Doom  is  so  awe-compelling 
that  the  very  walls  seem  to  echo  with  their  rever- 
berating call.  To  the  left,  above  the  open  graves, 
come  the  souls  for  judgment,  some  in  air  so  misty 
as  half  to  hide  their  grave-clothes,  some  assisted  by 
angels  and  saints.  On  the  right  are  the  condemned, 
falling  down  to  their  abysmal  torments,  beaten 
back  from  the  heights  by  vindictive  angels,  hauled 
by  arm  or  hair  or  legs  by  grinning  demons, 
—  crowds  of  them,  shoals  of  them,  shrieking, 
screaming,  a  seething,  torrid  mass.  Here  is  where 
Michelangelo's  talent  for  expression  shines  with 
no  uncertain  power.  Such  anguish,  such  terror, 
such  despair,  are  the  proper  accompaniment  of 
the  huge  figures,  with  heavy  ribbed  muscles,  small, 
pugilistic  heads.  It  must  be  admitted,  also,  that  the 
shapes  he  Chose  for  the  blessed  are  not  the  happiest 
to  express  eternal  joy.  Indeed,  there  is  slight  hint 
of  happiness  even  among  the  saved.  Stolid  resigna- 
tion or  a  vacuous  inanity  are  the  prevailing  types  of 
the  ascending  souls,  while  the  saints  and  martyrs 
near  Christ  appear  to  be  demanding  retribution  and 
heavy-handed  justice  rather  than  clemency  or  for- 
giveness. Mary  alone,  in  her  shrinking  attitude, 
seems  to  recoil  from  the  fearful  judgment  that  the 


140  Ubc  Htt  of  tbe  IDatlcan 

terrible  Son  is  pronouncing.  He  bears  no  resem- 
blance to  the  meek  Jesus,  to  the  intermediary,  to  the 
Son  who  gave  his  own  life  to  save  the  world.  Ratheri 
in  all  the  awful  anger  of  an  avenger  is  he  shown. 
In  his  colossal,  muscular  might,  he  suggests  one 
of  the  victors  of  the  gladiatorial  ring.  Below,  on 
the  lowest  plane  of  all,  on  the  right,  is  the  opening 
of  Hell.  Michelangelo  here  follows  the  description 
of  Dante.  Charon  forces  a  crowd  of  unhappy  spirits 
into  his  boat  to  the  other  side  of  the  dark  river,  where 
is  Minos,  Judge  of  the  Infernal.  The  opening  graves 
fill  the  left  lowest  half  of  the  fresco.  Here  the  un- 
judged  are  struggling  upward,  some  in  their  shrouds, 
some  mere  skeletons,  rising  toward  the  Throne  of 
Justice,  some  helped  by  the  spirits  above,  some  help- 
ing others. 

Any  real  consideration  of  this  fresco  is  out  of  the 
question.  Blackened  by  the  smoke  of  altar  candles, 
still  more  by  the  burning  of  the  conclave  ballots, 
washed  by  the  restorer,  repainted  and  redraped  by 
the  commands  of  a  prudish  age,  there  is  little  left 
to  tell  how  this  enormous  composition  once  impressed 
the  beholder.  Here  and  there  from  its  turmoil  one 
picks  a  figure,  and  finds  it  a  marvel  of  anatomical 
knowledge,  proof  that  even  in  his  old  age  Michel- 
angelo's brush  had  not  lost  its  cunning.  But  if  at 
times  he  could  still  thus  accomplish,  as  surely  he 
did  and  could  exaggerate  even  more  flamingly. 


tCbe  St6tine  Cbapel  14^ 

The  overpreponderance  of  muscle,  the  overdevelop- 
ment of  arms  or  legs  or  thorax,  the  undersized 
heads,  here  is  the  beginning  of  the  decadence  that  in 
the  Pauline  Chapel  proclaims  Michelangelo  what 
even  here  his  years  had  made  him,  —  an  old  man, 
with  only  the  ragged  mantle  of  mannerism  left  him. 
One  thing  may  be  said.  The  accusation  against  the 
lack  of  centrality,  against  the  unskilful  massing  of 
the  divisions  of  the  Last  Judgment  seem  rather  far- 
fetched. To  Michelangelo's  mind  and  to  his  time,  the 
Judgment  Day  meant  such  a  confusion,  perturbation, 
convulsion,  that  any  sort  of  focus  would  have  been 
impossible.  He  gives  the  Judge  the  central  space,  and 
so  entirely  that  even  in  its  present  blackened,  discol- 
oured condition,  one's  eyes  seek  him  first.  After  that 
there  is  no  plan.  The  dead  arise  and  are  hurled  down 
to  deeper  abyss,  or  they  arise  and  join  the  saints. 
But  amid  the  thousands  thus  called  by  the  trump  of 
Doom,  what  form,  what  order,  what  shape  is  pos- 
sible? Or,  if  possible,  it  is  questionable  if  regular 
or  mathematical  or  even  artistic  massing  would  give 
the  effect  here  conveyed,  of  a  state  that  is  a  worse 
frenzy  than  chaos. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE    STANZE    OF    RAPHAEL 

Two  rooms  full  of  very  mediocre  modern  pic- 
tures lead  directly  into  the  Sala  dell'  Immacolata. 
This  was  decorated  by  Podesti,  under  Pius  IX.,  with 
frescoes  celebrating  the  Immaculate  Conception  of 
the  Virgin,  a  doctrine  promulgated  on  December 
8,  1854.  These  frescoes  are  chiefly  interesting  be- 
cause they  contain  portraits  of  many  of  the  eccle- 
siastics contemporary  to  that  time.  Among  the 
subjects  are  the  Proclamation  of  the  Dogma,  the 
Adoration  of  the  Image  of  the  Virgin,  and  the 
Reception  of  the  News  by  the  Virgin  in  Heaven. 
Though  some  of  these  are  interesting  and  even 
spirited,  by  their  very  location  they  fail  to  rouse 
much  enthusiasm.  For  from  this  room  one  steps 
directly  into  the  Stanze  of  Raphael. 

Of  the  four  rooms  of  the  series,  the  first  in  order, 
the  Camera  dell'  Incendio  ranks  first  only  in  posi- 
tion. It  was  in  the  fifth,  the  Camera  della  Segna- 
tura,  where  was  the  scene  of  Raphael's  earliest 
labours  in  the  Vatican,  and  it  is  in  the  fifth  that 

142 


Zbc  Stanse  ot  IRapbael  143 

one  still  sees  the  most  perfect  expression  of  that 
genius  that,  at  twenty-one,  dominated  Rome,  as  it 
has  since  dominated  the  larger  part  of  the  art  of 
the  Christian  world. 

As  has  been  remarked  in  the  first  chapter,  Raphael 
came  to  Rome  in  1509  merely  as  one  of  the  corps 
of  artists  ordered  by  Julius  II.  to  make  beautiful 
the  papal  home.  Of  the  works  of  all  these  others, 
Sodoma's  decorations  of  the  ceiling  of  the  Segna- 
tura  and  the  Perugino  frescoes  in  that  of  the  In- 
cendio  are  all  that  the  Pope  permitted  to  remain 
once  he  realised  the  capabilities  of  this  youngster 
from  Urbino. 

The  four  rooms  are  oblong  in  shape,  with  a  vaiilt- 
ing  whose  pendentives  come  low  down  in  the  cor- 
ners. The  wall  space  on  each  side,  therefore,  is 
semicircular,  broken  in  the  two  narrower  ends  by  a 
deep-set  window.  Raphael's  problem  consequently 
was  to  surmount  the  difficulties  caused  by  a  cross- 
light,  as  well  as  to  conform  to  the  badly  divided 
space  of  the  windowed  wall.  Seen  to-day  in  all 
the  finished  perfection  of  a  compositional  harmony 
that  seems  equally  easily  accomplished  and  inevita- 
ble, it  is  interesting  and,  to  the  student,  most  in- 
structive to  learn  that  all  this  apparently  facile  result 
did  not  come  at  once  even  to  Raphael.  The  studies 
for  the  first  of  his  great  frescoes,  the  Disputa, 
show!  that  at  first  he  was  overwhelmed  by  the  very 


144  tTbe  Hrt  ot  tbe  tDatican 

immensity  of  the  space  he  must  cover.  Even  the 
sketches  nearest  the  painting  are  lacking  in  some 
of  the  finest  points  of  the  finished  result.  Raphael's 
power  of  assimilation  was  part  of  his  capacity  for 
learning  rapidly.  Yet,  though  after  this  first  fresco 
he  never  again  was  so  embarrassed  by  the  limits 
or  extent  of  his  canvas,  no  veriest  plodder  in  the 
artistic  ranks  ever  trusted  less  to  the  inspiration  of 
the  moment.  Or  perhaps  it  wx>uld  be  more  correct 
to  say  to  the  inspiration  of  any  one  moment.  The 
museums  of  Europe  abound  with  innumerable  draw- 
ings of  separate  and  grouped  figures,  in  all  sorts  of 
attitudes,  one  after  another  of  which  he  rejected 
before  he  found  what  he  finally  chose  for  picture 
or  fresco. 

On  the  two  long,  unbroken  walls  of  the  Camera 
della  Segnatura  are  the  Disputa  and  the  School  of 
Athens.  Parnassus  and  Jurisprudence  fill  the  win- 
dowed sides.  Above  each  one  is  an  allegorical 
figure  in  a  large,  ornamented  circle.  Connecting 
these,  and  dropping  somewhat  below  them  into  the 
triangular  spaces  of  the  corners,  are  heavily  bordered 
squares  representing  the  Temptation,  Judgment  of 
Solomon,  Creation  of  Planets,  Marsyas  and  Apollo. 
Above  these  again,  between  the  upper  curves  of  the 
allegories,  are  smaller  designs,  which,  as  well  as  the 
allegories,  are  separated  from  the  centre  by  orna- 
mented bands  in  gold  and  blue  and  colours.    In  the 


Zhc  Stanse  of  IRapbael  145 

very  centre  is  the  large  octagon,  within  which, 
against  a  blue  sky,  children  support  the  Pope's 
escutcheon.  Sodoma  is  the  author  of  at  least  a 
considerable  portion  of  this  ceiling  decoration. 
Originally  the  window  had  richly  coloured  stained 
glass  panes,  from  the  hand  of  William  of  Marseilles. 
These,  as  well  as  the  ornate  wainscoting,  with  seats 
of  fine  inlaid  work,  once  covering  the  walls  all  around 
to  a  man's  height,  have  long  since  vanished.  But 
there  is  still  preserved  the  sumptuous  mosaic  floor- 
ing, after  the  antique,  where  are  seen  the  emblems 
of  the  Rovere. 

The  small  square  panel  of  the  Creation  of  the 
Heavenly  Bodies  is  supposed  to  be  Raphael's  first 
finished  picture  in  the  Vatican.  After  this  came 
the  Judgment  of  Solomon,  the  Temptation,  and  then 
Apollo  and  Marsyas. 

The  Creation  of  Worlds  is  represented  by  a 
woman,  stooping  over  a  transparent  orb  on  which 
one  of  her  hands  is  lying.  No  Christian  saint  or 
angel,  she  is  more  allied  to  one  of  the  goddesses 
of  the  pagan  heavens.  Her  look  and  gesture,  as 
she  watches  the  earth  revolve  in  the  centre  of  the 
crystal-like  ball,  through  which  her  tunic  and  feet 
are  visible,  are  full  of  surprise.  Two  boys  by  her 
side  carrying  books  wing  their  way  from  little 
clouds,  and  smile  at  each  other  across  the  sky.  The 
grace  and  arrangement  of  light  and  shade  hint  of 


146  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

the  Raphael  of  later  days.  But  the  pose  and  move- 
ment of  the  children  still  show  the  Perugian  influ- 
ence. His  colour  scheme  is  an  adaptation  of  the 
mosaics  in  the  early  basilicas. 

In  the  Judgment  of  Solomon,  the  king  is  shown 
as  an  aged  man  sitting  on  his  throne,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  executioner.  This  individual,  grasp- 
ing the  child  by  the  heels,  stands  with  his  back  to 
the  spectator.  The  real  mother  throws  herself  for- 
ward to  stop  him ;  the  false  one,  on  her  knees  at  the 
foot  of  the  throne,  holds  out  her  hands  to  the  corpse 
which  lies  on  the  ground.  Nothing  is  lacking  here 
in  the  lines  of  the  composition,  in  balance  of  light 
and  shade  and  contrast  of  movement. 

Adam,  in  the  Temptation,  rests  on  a  bank  near 
the  fatal  tree.  The  coils  of  the  woman-headed 
serpent  are  wound  about  the  tree-trunk,  while  from 
the  branches  the  head  watches  Adam  as  he  takes  the 
fig  from  his  other  half.  Eve  herself  has  the  beauty 
of  form  and  grace  of  pose  of  a  Greek  Venus.  But 
in  the  foreshortened  features  of  her  face,  as  she 
looks  down  at  her  companion,  are  distinct  traces  of 
Raphael's  Umbrian  and  Florentine  training. 

The  Apollo  and  Marsyas  augured  well  for  the 
Parnassus  to  follow.  Here  Raphael  demonstrated 
that  he  could  treat  subjects  inviting  comparison  with 
the  antique  with  perfect  success.  In  the  middle  of 
the  scene  a  shepherd  holds  a  crown  of  laurel  above 


XCbe  Stanse  of  IRapbael  147 

the  god's  head,  who  is  sitting  to  the  left,  clasping 
his  lyre.  With  his  raised  right  hand  he  is  signing 
to  the  other  shepherd  holding  the  knife  ready  for 
the  flaying.  Marsyas  is  bound  to  the  tree  with  his 
arms  in  such  a  way  that  his  toes  barely  reach  the 
ground.  His  shape  at  once  recalls  the  ancient 
statues  of  Marsyas.  The  composition  is  well  if 
somewhat  arbitrarily  filled. 

As  said,  above  each  of  the  four  great  wall  paint- 
ings is  an  allegorical  figure,  a  personification  of  the 
subject  in  the  fresco  belowi.  In  Theology,  which  is 
therefore  above  the  Di  sputa,  the  colours  have  faded 
and  changed,  —  only  the  clouds  have  kept  their 
transparency  and  light.  The  girl  sitting  between 
the  two  tablet-bearing  boys,  who  are  dancing  on 
the  clouds,  is  looking  downward  with  a  gentle,  intent 
expression.  Her  auburn  hair,  garlands  of  leaves, 
and  a  veil  floating  in  the  breeze  are  reminders  that 
Raphael  still  clung  to  a  Florentine  type,  recalling 
almost  equally  Perugino  and  Fra  Bartolommeo. 

Poetry,  above  the  Parnassus,  is  conceived  of  as 
a  sibyl,  and  at  her  sides  are  winged  genii-,  carrying 
tablets  that  in  Virgil's  words  claim  she  is  inspired 
by  the  Deity.  Here  Raphael  has  left  behind  him 
the  affectations  of  the  school  of  Perugino.  The  mas- 
culine vigour  that  in  spite  of  his  inherent  sweetness 
and  light  was  a  part  of  him,  becomes  more  manifest. 
Seated  with  her  wings  opened,  Poetry  turns  her  face 


148  Ube  Hrt  of  tbe  IDatican 

in  the  opposite  direction  from  the  pose  of  her 
body.  The  modeUng  of  the  forms  is  exquisite,  her 
eye  full  of  a  creative  fire.  Her  right  hand  holds 
a  book  on  one  of  her  knees,  her  left  supports  a  lyre, 
her  feet  are  gracefully  crossed  in  front.  Beauti- 
fully draped  about  the  waist  and  arms,  her  tunic 
leaves  her  right  forearm  bare. 

Like  the  other  three,  Justice,  over  Jurisprudence, 
is  seated  on  clouds  that  float  over  a  gold  mosaic 
background.  She  holds  a  sword  above  her  head  in 
her  right  hand,  and  lower,  in  her  left,  the  scales. 
Her  eyes  are  downcast,  but  not  blinded,  and  alto- 
gether she  is  a  sweet- faced,  not  too  heavy  maiden, 
whose  attributes  rather  than  expression  indicate  her 
vocation.  On  each  side  of  her  are  two  charming 
genii  in  most  delightful  variety  of  action,  holding 
the  tablets  bearing  the  motto  for  the  picture.  In 
the  distribution  of  line  and  mass  the  composition 
is  irreproachable,  but  the  execution  is  less  satis- 
factory. 

Full  of  memories  of  the  antique  is  Philosophy, 
placed  above  the  School  of  Athens.  She  is  sitting  on 
a  golden  chair  whose  arms  are  shaped  in  imitation 
of  the  many-headed  Diana  of  Ephesus,  symbol,  as 
Grimm  says,  of  all-sustaining  nature.  In  her  star- 
embroidered  tunic  and  flowered  mantle,  with  her 
two  hands  holding  upright  the  books  of  moral  and 
natural  philosophy,  and  in  the  two  boys  carrying 


Ube  Stanse  ot  IRapbael  149 

tablets  inscribed  with  the  words,  "  Causarvm  Cog- 
nitOy"  are  reminders  of  the  statues  of  the  anciaits. 
Her  position,  turn  of  head,  and  noble  face  are  digni- 
fied and  simple. 

All  of  the  four  rounds  have  suffered  from  time 
and  the  restorers'  hands.  The  backgrounds  of  all 
are  of  gold  mosaic.  In  Theology  retouching  has 
spoiled  the  flesh  shadows,  and  the  green  mantle  is 
sadly  damaged.  Philosophy  is  full  of  patches  and 
additions.  Poetry  is  apparently  entirely  the  work  of 
Raphael.  In  Justice  the  draperies  are  poor,  and 
these  and  some  other  parts  may  be  assigned  to 
assistants. 

When  Julius  II.  ordered  the  Disputa,  he  was 
especially  desirous  that  this  picture,  which  was  to 
be  an  epitome  of  religion  according  to  the  Roman 
doctrines,  should  be  at  the  same  time  a  memento 
of  what  was  to  be  the  greatest  act  of  his  pontificate, 
—  the  rebuilding  of  St.  Peter's.  Therefore  Raphael 
laid  the  scene  in  the  court  of  an  unfinished  building 
where  the  marble  piers  are  hardly  raised  above  the 
heads  of  the  people.  Of  the  altar  itself,  on  which 
is  placed  the  sacrament,  one  writer  remarks  that  it 
seems  to  indicate  the  marble  stone  which  the  Pope 
had  sealed  in  the  depths  of  the  old  basilica  a  few 
years  before. 

The  Disputa  shows  clearly  the  effect  upon  Raphael 
of  Leonardo  and  Fra  Bartolommeo,  as  well  as  his 


ISO  tTbc  Hrt  of  tbe  IDattcan 

studies  of  the  remains  of  the  art  of  Greece.  In 
consequence,  there  is  less  uniformity  of  style  than  in 
some  others  of  his  creations.  Yet,  perhaps  of  all 
his  frescoes  no  other  interests  the  beholder  more. 
Though  some  of  the  parts  may  be  unequal,  the  effect 
of  the  whole  is  that  of  "  a  splendid  vision."  It  may 
be  said  to  be  composed  of  three  divisions,  two  of 
these  in  heaven,  the  third  on  the  earth.  Above  all 
is  the  Lord  Almighty;  the  middle  celestial  region 
holds  Christ,  Mary,  John  the  Baptist,  and  the 
prophets,  saints,  and  apostles.  In  the  lowest  divi- 
sion is  the  assemblage  about  the  sacrament.  In  spite 
of  this  arbitrary  placing,  the  three  sections  do  not 
exist  independently.  They  are  connected,  not  only 
in  the  intellectual  scheme  of  the  composition,  but 
in  the  actual  technical  presentation  of  it.  If  there 
are  certain  mannerisms  and  what  might  almost  be 
called  archaisms  in  the  upper  portions,  nevertheless 
there  is  that  homogeneity  of  the  whole  that  is  never 
lacking  in  Raphael's  creations. 

God,  in  the  highest  curve  of  the  arch  of  the  fresco, 
is  clad  in  tunic  and  mantle,  clouds  covering  him 
below  the  waist.  He  bears  the  crystal  orb  and 
gives  the  benediction.  His  bearded  head  within 
its  lozenge-shaped  halo  is  characteristic  of  the  old 
mid-Italian  church  type;  and  the  hems  and  borders 
of  his  garments,  ornamented  with  gold  microscopi- 
cally treated,  are  of  the  same  order.     But  there  is 


Zbc  Stanse  ot  iRapbacl  is» 

more  of  the  noble  simplicity  of  the  classic  in  his 
impressive  attitude  and  gesture  and  in  the  dignity 
of  his  frame.  From  his  sky,  reflecting  old  tradition 
again,  are  the  rays  that  spread  out  through  an  atmos- 
phere full  of  delicately  toned  boy  angels,  against  a 
star-spattered  ground,  below  which  other  angels  sup- 
port a  fringe  of  cloud.  Quite  different  are  the  six 
lovely  winged  seraphs  that  float  in  the  air  before 
this  cloud  at  the  Eternal's  side.  They  are  con- 
ceived in  the  very  spirit  of  the  old  Greek  Victories. 
Slig^htly  below,  seated  on  the  clouds,  is  Christ,  his 
white  shroud  slipped  back  to  shoiw  the  wound  in 
his  side.  His  two  hands  are  upraised,  displaying 
the  stigmata,  and  they,  with  the  depth  of  earnest- 
ness of  his  face,  tell  the  story  of  his  redemption, 
as  much  as  the  bending  figure  of  the  Madonna  on 
one  side  or  John  the  Baptist  on  the  other.  Around 
the  group. is  a  halo  of  rays,  bordered  by  a  semi- 
circle of  light  in  which  cherub  heads  are  flying.  It 
is  all  after  the  Umbrian  traditions,  and,  lovely  as  it 
is  in  its  own  way,  shows  that  Raphael  was  here  still 
bound  by  his  early  schooling.  This  central  group 
is  finished  by  the  dove  at  Christ's  feet,  and  four 
vdnged  boys  carrying  the  volumes  of  the  Gospels. 
It  rests,  as  it  were,  on  a  semicircle  of  clouds  where 
are  seated,  at  the  extreme  ends,  St.  Peter  and  St. 
Paul,  and  betwieen,  Adam  and  Abraham,  John  the 
Apostle  and  James,  Moses  and  Daniel,  Lawrence 


152  ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  Datican 

and  Stephen,  Jeremiah  and  Judas  Maccabaeus.  Be- 
low these  thick  white  clouds  is  the  sky  seen  by  earth 
eyes,  and  then  comes  the  terrestrial  portion  of  the 
painting.  In  the  centre  is  the  altar,  slightly  raised 
and  approached  by  broad  steps.  On  each  side  are 
the  fathers  and  doctors  of  the  Church.  At  one  end 
are  blocks  of  half-cut  marble,  at  the  other  a  land- 
scape of  low  hills,  sloping  to  the  lake.  The  assem- 
blage is  grouped  with  the  wonderful  freedom,  and 
has  the  natural  and  splendid  massing  of  which 
Raphael  was  past  master.  Almost  all  of  them  are 
historical  pof traits.  In  front  on  the  left,  leaning  on 
the  stone  balustrade,  a  middle-aged  man  draws  the 
attention  of  a  youth  walking  to  the  altar  to  a  book 
into  which  a  group  of  others  are  looking.  He  is 
Bramante,  the  genius  of  the  new  St.  Peter's,  At 
the  altar  itself  are  Jerome,  Gregory,  Ambrose, 
and  Augustine.  Connecting  them  with  the  noted 
figures  far  at  each  end,  are  bishops  and  youths,  saints 
and  martyrs.  Among  others  are  plainly  seen  the 
face  of  Dante,  standing  just  in  front  of  Savonarola, 
and  before  them  is  Innocent  III.  The  names  of  these 
are  told  by  inscriptions  written  in  the  nimbus  encir- 
cling their  heads,  or  else  they  are  so  well  known  by 
innumerable  portraits  that  names  are  unnecessary. 

Above,  in  the  sky,  are  many  beautiful  figures, 
Mary,  as  she  kneels  before  Christ,  has  a  tender  love^ 
liness  that.is  not  less  charming  because  of  its  pre- 


DETAIL    FROM    THE    "  DISPUTA  " 

By  Raphael ;  in  the  Stanze 


Ubc  Stanse  of  IRapbael  15s 

Raphaelic  traits.  One  of  the  most  interesting  is 
Adam,  who,  sitting  calmly  with  one  leg  thrown  over 
the  other,  is,  as  Grimm  observes,  full  of  an  ''  aristo- 
cratic ease."  And  everywhere  are  the  most  exquisite 
angels  and  angels'  heads.  The  clouds  seem  fairly 
permeated  with  them;  as  far  as  eye  can  pierce  the 
blue  vapour,  shine  with  faint  but  heavenly  light  these 
angelic  hosts. 

But  it  is  in  the  lower  plane  that  we  begin  to  see 
the  Raphael  who  could  paint  the  School  of  Athens, 
the  Jurisprudence,  and  the  Mass  of  Bolsena.  The 
grouping  shows  the  balance,  the  unerring  sense  of 
coherent  composition,  so  marked  an  attribute  of 
Raphael  from  this  time  on.  The  vigour,  too,  in 
the  individual  figures,  the  long  free  lines  full  of 
verve  and  character,  the  spirited  positions  and 
splendid  counterbalance  in  the  groupings,  all  make 
such  a  vivid,  life-like  assemblage,  that  it  is  no 
wonder  the  fresco  as  a  whole  is  the  most  famous 
or  best  known  of  all  his  works. 

Of  the  School  of  Athens  on  the  opposite  wall, 
Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle  say  it  "  is  simply  the  finest, 
best  balanced,  and  most  perfect  arrangement  of 
figures  that  was  ever  put  together  by  the  genius 
of  the  Italian  Revival,  and  the  scene  in  which  it  is 
set  is  the  most  splendid  display  of  monumental  archi- 
tecture that  was  ever  made  in  the  sixteenth  century." 

The  scene  takes  place  on  the  steps  at  the  entrance 


is6  Zbc  art  of  tbc  IDattcan 

to  an  open  air  palace  and  temple,  of  proportions  so 
idealised  that  the  choicest  remains  of  the  greatest 
Greek  temples  pale  before  its  perfection.  In  the 
immediate  foreground  the  tiled  pavement  of  the 
court  ends  at  the  wide,  low  marble  steps  that  stretch 
nearly  across  the  w'hole  picture.  At  the  front  and 
on  the  sides  of  these  steps  are  groups  of  philoso- 
phers and  students  so  arranged  that  each  individual 
is  a  connecting  link  in  a  chain  leading  to  the  two 
philosophers  who  form  the  centre  of  the  picture. 
These  two  stand  side  by  side,  slightly  back  from  the 
edge  of  the  platform,  the  one  on  the  right,  Aris- 
totle, pointing  to  the  earth,  Plato  by  his  side  lifting 
his  hand  to  heaven.  There  is  no  hint  of  dispute 
between  them,  though  each  looks  attentively  at  the 
other,  as  if  wishing  to  impress  him  with  his  doc- 
trines. The  architecture  that  rises  in  majestic  lines 
about  and  over  them  is  an  arched  aisle,  supported 
on  huge  pilasters  and  broken  by  a  cupola  and  a 
transept.  Through  the  dome  of  the  cupola,  and  over 
the  last  arch  beyond  the  transept,  the  clouds  float 
across  the  shining  sky.  No  setting  could  be  more 
appropriate,  more  grandly  impressive  for  this 
*•  school "  of  philosophy.  Vasari  states  that  Bra- 
mante  designed  the  edifice  and  indeed  the  proportions 
are  such  as  he  alone  could  have  conceived,  —  Bra- 
mante,  who  was  filled  with  the  secrets  of  the  ancients 
and  who  revitalised  them  with  the  spirit  of  the 


(S- 


^        OF  THE  ^'^ 


XTbe  Stanse  ot  IRapbael  159 

Renaissance.  The  decorations  of  the  building  are 
no  less  remarkable.  The  vaultings  are  cut  into  a 
beautiful  hexagonal  pattern,  the  cornices  and  capi- 
tals are  exquisite  in  a  grave  simplicity,  and  the 
whole  is  heightened  by  reliefs  and  statues  so 
designed  by  Raphael  that  they  partake  of  the  essence 
of  Greek  art  without  being  in  any  sense  mere  copies. 
It  is  in  the  grouping  and  massing  of  his  philoso- 
phers that  Raphael's  power  shines  at  its  brightest. 
Almost  any  individual  picked  at  random  shows  a 
mastery  of  form,  of  drapery,  of  characterisation 
unsurpassed  by  any  other  painter.  But  not  only 
is  each  individual  perfectly  studied  and  completely 
expressed;  he  is  even  more  carefully  considered  in 
his  relation  to  those  about  him.  Yet  so  easily  is 
it  all  done  that  the  picture  seems  to  compose  of 
itself.  One  could  scarcely  imagine  as  possible  a 
single  change  in  the  slightest  detail.  It  is  as  if  it 
all  happened  spontaneously  but  with  the  rarest  per- 
fection. There  have  been  many  names  given  to  these 
figures,  and  indeed  there  has  been  much  debate  as 
to  the  real  subject  of  the  whole  fresco.  Grimm 
and  others  have  claimed  that  it  represents  the 
entrance  of  Paul  into  the  midst  of  the  Athenian 
philosophers.  The  balance  of  opinion,  however,  is  as 
stated  above,  that  the  two  central  figures  are  Plato 
and  Aristotle.  Below  these  steps  on  the  left,  bending 
over  his  book  and  writing  from  the  table  of  har- 


i6o  u\)c  Hrt  of  tbe  IDattcan 

monies  held  before  him  by  a  pupil,  is  the  noble  fig- 
ure of  Pythagoras.  On  the  other  side  Bramante, 
posing  as  Archimedes,  is  leaning  far  down  over  a 
geometrical  figure  which  he  is  spanning  with  a  pair 
of  compasses,  while  about  him  are  a  number  of  stu- 
dents earnestly  watching  him.  Near  by  are  Ptol- 
emy, or  perhaps  Zoroaster,  and  behind  are  Raphael, 
and  possibly  Perugino.  The  figure  stretched  out 
on  the  steps  to  the  right  of  the  centre,  with  such 
astonishing  compositional  effect,  is  Diogenes. 
Above,  on  the  platform,  to  the  left  of  Plato  is 
clearly  recognised  the  pugnacious  face  of  Socrates. 
But  whatever  or  whoever  they  may  be,  it  is  the 
way  one  part  is  connected  with  another ;  the  grada- 
tions by  wlhich  the  sight  is  carried  along  to  the  cen- 
tral point  of  focus;  the  individual  grandeur  of  the 
figures  and  the  splendid  lines  of  drapery ;  the  swing- 
ing poses;  the  difficult  foreshortening;  the  infinite 
variety  of  movement  and  position  that  make  an  over- 
whelming impression.  "  The  spirit  which  pervades 
the  School  of  Athens  is  that  of  Giotto,  Ghirlandajo, 
Leonardo,  and  Michelangelo.  Tempering  these  are 
Raphael's  own  innate  nobleness  and  grace,  and  his 
constant  appeal  from  the  ideal  and  classic  to  nature. 
Combining  all  these  qualities  into  his  picture,  he 
exhibits  as  additional  elements  of  charm,  a  broader 
style  of  execution,  a  most  striking  balance  of  light 
and  shade  and  a  greater  richness  of  harmonious 


PORTRAIT    OF    RAPHAEL    AND    PERUGINO 
Detail  from  School  of  Athens,  by  Raphael;  in  the  Stanze 


%^  OF  THE         ' 


Ube  Stanse  ot  IRapbael  163 

colour  than  he  had  hitherto  attained  in  his  practice 
of  fresco."  The  surface  of  the  School  of  Athens 
has  been  badly  hurt  by  abrasion  and  discolouration ; 
the  architecture  has  faded  to  such  a  degree  that  some 
of  the  reliefs  are  almost  indistinguishable.  A  long 
fissure  cuts  right  through  the  head  of  Diogenes.  A 
still  longer  one  strikes  through  the  whole  picture 
and  divides  the  figure  of  the  two  philosophers 
ascending  and  descending  the  steps. 

Filling  one  of  the  window  ends  of  the  Camera 
is  the  Parnassus.  It  thus  forms  a  semicircular 
design  with  a  square  hole  cut  from  its  centre  by  the 
window.  Apollo  is  directly  over  this  opening, 
seated  on  a  rocky  rise,  from  which  a  spring  gushes 
out,  ending  in  a  pool  at  his  feet.  The  golden-haired, 
laurel-crowned  youth  is  nearly  full  face  to  the  spec- 
tator, his  left  leg  slightly  drawn  under,  his  right 
advanced.  Partly  covering  his  beautiful  body  is  a 
lavender  robe  which  slips  from  his  right  shoulder 
and  half  drapes  both  thighs.  He  is  playing  on  a  viol, 
while  his  upraised  head  and  eyes  seem  seeking  in- 
spiration directly  from  heaven.  Behind  him  are 
some  laurel-trees,  through  whose  slender  trunks  and 
not  too  heavy  foliage  the  sky,  wtith  its  soft  streaks 
of  cloud,  shows  clearly.  At  his  right  and  left  are 
grouped  the  Muses  and  poets,  a  wonderfully  simple 
but  most  effective  arrangement,  apparently  so 
naturally  accomplished  that  the  necessity  for  filling 


i64  XTbe  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

up  the  fan-like  space  hardly  occurs  to  one.  On 
Apollo's  right  is  Calliope,  resting  on  her  left  elbow, 
the  upper  part  of  her  body  turned  slightly  toward 
the  god,  her  head  in  profile  away  from  him^  She 
is  in  white,  entirely  robed,  except  for  the  right  arm 
and  breast.  Seated  on  the  other  side  is  Erato,  in 
a  light  blue  gown.  She  is  gazing  at  Apollo  with 
intense  interest  expressed  in  every  line.  In  her 
left  hand  she  holds  the  seven-^stringed  lyre.  Behind 
her  are  Melpomene  and  Terpsichore  and  Poly- 
hymnia, in  soft  grays  and  lavenders  and  greens,  in 
the  main  fully  draped,  only  an  arm  or  shoulder 
occasionally  escaping  from  the  graceful  folds.  Be- 
tween them  and  the  group  beside  Erato  grows  the 
bunch  of  laurel-trees.  Clio,  Thalia,  and  Euterpe 
are  close  together,  Euterpe  turning  a  little  from  the 
other  twio  to  speak  to  Urania,  who  is  standing  back 
to  at  Erato's  feet.  She  is  thus  somewhat  more  fully 
in  the  foreground  than  these  others,  and  her  golden- 
toned  gown  is  caught  and  held  in  beautiful  big 
masses,  showing  off  to  advantage  her  stately  figure. 
Below  her,  in  the  curving  space  by  the  side  of  the 
window  is  a  group  of  laurel-crowned  poets.  The 
principal  figure  here  is  the  splendid  Pindar,  seated 
with  his  right  arm  outstretched  and  wonderfully 
foreshortened.  His  fine  gray-bearded  head,  with 
its  beautiful  large  dark  eyes,  is  turned  up  to  the 
two  poets  standing  beside  and  above  him.    Behind 


Utc  Stanse  ot  IRapbacl  165 

these  two,  finishing  the  assembly  Urania  overlooks, 
are  a  number  of  men,  some  supposed  to  be  contem- 
poraries of  Raphael.  Vasari  speaks  of  Tebaldeo, 
Boccaccio,  Ariosto,  and  Sannazaro.  But  only  Ari- 
osto  and  Boccaccio,  whom  we  have  learned  to  know 
by  traditional  types,  can  be  certainly  placed  now. 
This  cluster  is  broken  again  by  two  of  the  laurel- 
trees,  and  rhythm  and  movement  are  given  by  the 
varying  turns  of  the  heads  and  shoulders  of  the 
poets.  On  Apollo's  right,  next  to  Melpomene,  is 
the  figure  that,  as  a  compositional  unit,  balances 
Urania.  Yet,  without  overthrowing  his  delicate, 
unforced  balance,  Raphael  has  succeeded  in  impart- 
ing an  interest  to  the  noble,  blue-robed  figure  second 
only  to  that  of  Apollo.  There  is  no  doubt  as  to 
the  identity  of  the  majestic  being  vnth  his  grand, 
Jove-like  head.  It  does  not  need  the  sightless  eyes 
to  tell  us  this  is  the  Homer,  whom  only  the  god  of 
poetry  himself  could  have  inspired.  Holding  an 
end  of  drapery  in  his  left  hand,  his  right  is  out- 
stretched with  the  fingers  extended,  as  if  he  were 
trying  to  follow  with  them  the  strains  of  music  from 
the  god's  violin.  He  is  a  remarkably  impressive 
figure.  Dante  and  Virgil  are  behind  him,  listening 
to  his  ecstatic  incantation,  while  an  attractive  youth 
sits  below,  preparing  to  write  the  words  the  poet 
sings.  Below  him,  around  one  tall  laurel  that  breaks 
the  sky  behind,  is  another  collection  of  poets,  among 


i66  Ube  art  ot  tbe  Datican 

whom  is  Petrarch.  Balancing  Pindar  and  also 
overlapping  the  window  on  her  side  is  the  seated 
figure  of  Sappho.  Here  once  more  the  painter  has 
given  a  double  twist  to  the  figure  that  finishes  the 
lines  of  the  composition  with  fine  curves.  She  sits 
with  feet  extended  awiay  from  the  window,  while 
her  left  arm,  leaning  on  the  top  of  the  frame,  brings 
her  torso  round  in  an  opposite  direction.  Her  head 
again  is  turned  to  look  at  the  poets  beside  her.  The 
central  group  of  the  picture  is  in  a  higher,  lighter 
key  than  the  sides,  apparently  with  the  intention  of 
differentiating  the  celestial  dwellers  from  mere  earth- 
born  poets.  Altogether  the  fresco  shows  less  feel- 
ing than  the  Disputa  and  less  grandeur  than  the 
School  of  Athens.  Yet  it  is  perhaps  more  pleasing 
than  either.  Certain  of  the  figures  are,  for  com- 
position purposes,  out  of  proportion,  and  the  Muses 
have  too  small  heads  for  their  heavy  bodies.  As  a 
whole,  nevertheless,  it  has  a  breadth  and  freedom 
that  characterise  Raphael's  greatest  period.  With 
the  exception  of  the  modern  retouching,  it  is  un- 
doubtedly wholly  from  his  hands. 

Opposite,  over  the  other  window,  is  the  allegory 
of  Prudence,  or,  as  it  is  usually  called.  Jurisprudence. 
This  is  the  least  "  full "  of  the  four  great  frescoes 
of  the  Camera.  Prudence  rests  upon  a  pure  marble 
plinth,  while  on  each  side  of  her,  sitting  on  the 
platform  on  which  are  her  feet,   are  Force  and 


tlbe  Stanse  of  IRapbael  167 

Moderation.  It  covers  merely  the  arched  section 
above  the  window.  In  spite  of  the  gloom  of  the 
place,  Raphael  succeeded  in  getting  a  wonderful 
purity  and  clarity  of  colour.  It  is  bright  and  light 
and  gay  and  spontaneous,  with  power  of  line  and 
grace  of  movement.  Prudence,  supporting  herself 
on  her  left  hand,  is  sitting  sidewise,  her  head  inclined 
to  the  left.  A  winged  boy  of  lovely  shape  holds 
before  her  a  mirror,  which  she  steadies  with  her 
hand.  Her  position  is  majestic,  and  her  whole  out- 
line grand  and  noble.  A  mantle  hangs  from  one 
shoulder  and  falls  about  the  legs,  displaying  only 
the  sandalled  feet.  At  the  front  of  the  plinth  is  a 
graceful  boy,  holding  aloft  a  flaming  torch.  Qose 
beside  him  is  Moderation,  who  is  lifting  a  bridle, 
and  at  the  same  time  is  turning  to  gaze  at  an  exquis- 
ite naked  child  facing  the  spectator.  With  his  hand 
and  finger  pointing  heavenward,  he  is  emphasising 
what  is  everyivhere  emphasised  in  this  Camera,  that 
it  is  only  from  above  that  all  virtue  comes.  Modera- 
tion's full  mantle  covers  her  limbs  and  one  of  her 
arms,  the  sweep  of  the  folds  partly  hiding  the  affec- 
tation of  her  pose.  On  the  other  side  of  Prudence  is 
Fortitude,  a  woman  of  fuller  and  richer  curves  than 
Moderation.  She  sits  in  profile,  helmeted,  with  the 
aegis  on  her  breast,  an  ample  drapery  covering  her, 
one  leg  encased  in  armour  alone  escaping  from  the 
folds.     Playing  with  a  lion's  head  with  her  left 


i68  tlbe  Htt  of  tbe  IDattcan 

hand,  she  holds  in  her  right  an  oak  branch,  recalling 
the  motto  of  the  Rovere.  A  merry  child  climbs  her 
lap  to  pluck  the  acorns  among  the  leaves.  The 
whole  figure  is  massive,  powerful,  with  stately,  deter- 
mined lines.  As  if  calling  attention  to  this  embodi- 
ment of  government  and  rule,  a  boy  on  the  plat- 
form at  the  left,  back  to,  signs  to  some  one  out  of 
sight.  Raphael  here  has  combined  the  grace  and 
rhythm  of  the  Greek  ideal  with  the  unbounded 
vigour  and  energy  of  Michelangelo.  Yet  there  is 
no  copying  of  any  one.  In  feeling,  this  nearly  fault- 
less composition  is  purely  Raphaelesque.  The  col- 
ours have  the  tender  gaiety  that  perhaps  he  alone 
knew  how  to  obtain,  the  foreshortening  and  lines 
of  the  groups  are  always  his,  and  they  are  not  less 
masterly  than  that  attained  by  the  worker  in  the 
Sistine. 

At  the  sides  of  the  window,  below  the  Jurispru- 
dence, are  Emperor  Justinian  Promulgating  the 
Pandects  and  Pope  Gregory  IX.  Promulgating  the 
Decretals.  The  idea  of  the  latter  panel  Raphael  is 
said  to  have  taken  from  Melozzo  da  Forli's  famous 
fresco,  Sixtus  IV.  Appointing  Platina  to  the  Post 
of  Librarian,  and  which  was  originally  in  the  Vat- 
ican library.  In  this  Julius  II.  poses  as  Gregory 
IX.,  and  with  him  are  the  Cardinal  Giovanni  de' 
Medici,  the  future  Leo  X.,  Alessandro  Farnese,  the 


DETAIL   FROM    JURISPRUDENCE 
By  Raphael ;  in  the  Stanze 


^      or  THE    ■^>^ 
UIMlVfTRSITY 


Zbc  Stanse  ot  Hapbael  171 

future  Paul  III.,  and  another  prelate,  Antonio  del 
Monte. 

The  Stanza  della  Segnatura  may  be  said  to  rep- 
resent Raphael  as  does  the  Sistine  Chapel  Michel- 
angelo. Both,  perhaps,  have  individual  greater 
works  to  their  credit.  In  the  Madonna  di  San  Sisto 
Raphael  reached  a  spiritual  height  unsealed  in  the 
Camera.  In  the  Moses,  or  the  Medicean  Marbles, 
Michelangelo  expressed  the  might  and  indomitable- 
ness  of  his  owai  soul  perhaps  even  clearer  than  in 
the  ceiling  of  the  Sistine.  But  in  no  other  one  work 
is  the  entire  man  of  each  so  fully  displayed.  For 
clear,  shining  sanity,  the  Camera  is  unexcelled,  while 
the  Sistine  exerts  power  and  impressiveness  attained 
by  no  other.  In  pure  beauty  and  a  unique  perfection 
of  decorative  and  mural  composition,  the  Camera 
must  take  precedence.  In  the  Sistine  it  is  not  beauty 
so  much  as  it  is  an  overpowering  grandeur  of  con- 
ception that  strikes  one.  The  two  cannot  be  com- 
pared. They  are  as  dissimilar  as  a  deep  inland 
lake  dazzling  in  its  glorious  shimmering  blue  and  the 
restless,  whirling  waves  of  the  ocean  itself. 

The  Stanza  della  Segnatura  leads  into  the  Stanza 
deir  Incendio  on  one  side  and  the  Stanza  d'  Elio- 
doro  on  the  other.  Not  long  after  his  completion 
of  the  Segnatura,  Julius  ordered  Raphael  to  com^ 
mence  the  second  chamber  of  the  Stanza.  Before 
he  had  finished  the  Eliodoro,  Julius  had  died  and 


J72  Ube  art  ot  tbe  Datican 

Leo  X.  was  Pope.  Whatever  difference  the  new 
reign  made  politically  or  ecclesiastically,  it  Wias  un- 
changed in  its  attitude  toward  Raphael.  His  work 
was  prized  as  ever,  and  the  one  change  seen  in  the 
Camera  was  that  now  the  features  of  Leo  appeared 
where  before  would  have  come  those  of  Julius. 

In  the  ceiling  of  the  Stanza  d'  Eliodoro,  Raphael's 
hand  alone  is  felt.  By  the  time  the  wall  frescoes  are 
reached,  it  begins  to  be  apparent  that  the  tremendous 
amount  of  work  demanded  from  him,  and  which  he, 
like  artists  everywhere,  could  not  refuse,  necessitated 
his  giving  more  and  more  of  the  work  to  his  as- 
sistants and  pupils.  Compared  with  the  Segnatura, 
the  Stanza  is  very  simply  adorned.  Unfortunately, 
and  the  why  is  not  thoroughly  understood,  the  ceil- 
ing has  suffered  terribly  from  a  loss  and  corrosion 
of  colour. 

The  custom  of  draping  the  cold  stone  palaces 
with  tapestry  had  come  to  Italy  from  the  colder 
north.  The  Pope  apparently  had  instructed  Peruzzi, 
who  was  at  work  before  Raphael  took  his  place,  to 
make  a  design  on  the  ceiling  imitating  tapestry 
stretched  across  it  in  divisions.  Raphael  kept  to 
this  original  intention,  and  the  four  principal  ceiling 
compositions  look  as  if  they  were  woven  or  painted 
on  cloth  stretched  and  tacked  to  the  curved  sections 
between  the  heavily  ornamented  ribs  that  come  from 
the  central  medallion  to  the  outside  border  of  the 


XTbe  Stan3e  ol  IRapbael  173 

ceiling.  This  centre  design  has  the  Pope's  escutch- 
eon framed  in  a  round  of  oak  leaves.  The  borders 
over  the  windows  have  the  name  and  arms  of  Julius 
II.  twice  repeated,  supported  by  angels.  Between 
these  are  bas-reliefs,  in  painting,  of  Roman  skir- 
mishes and  examples  of  Friendship,  Chastity,  Wan- 
tonness, Baptism,  Prayer,  Law,  Labour,  Force, 
Childhood,  Play,  and  Study.  It  is  a  curious  medley 
of  Christian  and  heathen  mythology.  Hercules  rep- 
resents strength,  for  instance;  Moses  with  the  tab- 
lets, law. 

The  four  ceiling  pictures  are  God's  Promise  to 
Noah,  Abraham's  Sacrifice,  Jacob's  Dream,  and  the 
Burning  Bush.  Each  of  these  four  is  directly  over 
one  of  the  four  big  wall  frescoes,  and  each,  by  way 
of  analogy,  is  connected  with  it.  Half  obliterated, 
with  the  colours  almost  ruined,  these  groups,  never- 
theless, show  the  highwater  mark  of  Raphael's 
genius.  It  has  been  often  said  that  when  the  young 
painter  designed  them,  he  had  already  had  a  sight 
of  the  ceiling  of  the  Sistine.  And  indeed  there  can 
be  little  question  about  it,  for  Michelangelo  had 
uncovered  half  of  it  to  public  view  at  about  the  time 
of  the  composition  of  the  Camera  della  Segnatura. 
The  power  and  vigour  and  sweep  of  the  figures  cer- 
tainly do  suggest  the  great  sculptor-painter,  who, 
influencing  others,  himself  changed  only  by  his  own 
inner  thous:hts. 


174  Xlbe  art  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

In  the  appearance  of  God  before  Noah  there  is 
little  in  that  majestic  form  to  remind  one  of  the 
archaic  type  in  the  Disputa.  Supported  by  three 
angels,  he  floats  through  the  air  a  few  feet  above 
ground,  with  his  arms  held  out  over  Noah,  who, 
kneeling,  guards  within  his  arms  the  clinging  Ham. 
At  the  doorway  beyond  and  behind  Noah  is  his  wife, 
carrying  Japhet  over  her  left  shoulder,  and  turning 
to  encourage  Shem,  who  is  proudly  holding  a  turkey 
and  looking  up  at  his  mother.  The  grace  of  the 
children  contrasts  charmingly  with  the  rugged  frame 
of  Noah  and  the  majesty  and  might  of  the  Eternal. 

The  Sacrifice  of  Abraham  fills  its  space  less 
perfectly  than  is  usual  in  Raphael's  compositions. 
The  sacrifice  fire  on  the  left  of  Abraham  does  not 
adequately  balance  the  angel  floating  down  with 
the  lamp  and  the  dropped  clothes  of  Isaac  on  the 
ground  on  the  other  side.  Yet  Abraham's  figure,  as 
he  stands  with  the  knife  uplifted  over  the  altar  where 
Isaac  is  bound,  is  splendidly  poised,  and  has  the 
realism  of  nature  combined  with  the  lines  of  the 
Greeks.  His  lifted  arm  is  stayed  by  an  angel  who 
sweeps  across  the  sky,  and  below,  on  the  right,  is 
the  second  angel  carrying  the  lamb. 

The  massing  of  Jacob's  Dream  is  much  more  beau- 
tiful. Jacob,  dreaming  on  a  pillow  of  stones,  whicK 
he  tries  to  soften  for  his  head  by  resting  his  arms 
between,  is  a  finely  imagined  figure,  as  he  stretches 


XTbe  Stanse  of  IRapbael  175 

out  considerably  beyond  the  half  of  the  picture. 
From  the  midst  of  clouds  springs  the  dream-ladder, 
going  upwards  to  the  left,  till  it  is  met  by  the  figure 
of  the  Lord,  who,  seen  only  to  his  waist,  is  enveloped 
in  the  billowing  clouds.  Michelangelo  is  again  sug- 
gested in  this  Jehovah,  whose  head  is  much  like 
the  Zeus  of  antiquity.  But  the  most  exquisite  part 
of  the  whole  picture  is  the  line  of  ascending  and  de- 
scending angels.  Nothing  lovelier  than  the  lowest 
one  can  be  imagined.  With  her  head  thrown  up  in 
profile,  her  hands  clasped  over  her  breast,  and  her 
beautiful  wings  spread  behind  her,  she  has  the  grace 
and  holiness  of  one  of  Fra  Angelico's  creations. 

The  swirl  of  flames  in  the  Burning  Bush  has  not 
the  dramatic,  decorative  lines  that  a  modern  Vedder 
would  have  given.  None  the  less  do  they  portray 
the  mystery  and  blinding  light  that  make  Moses 
cover  his  eyes  from  the  sight  beyond  mortals'  ken. 
The  difference  between  the  shepherd,  sylvan  charac- 
ter of  Moses,  and  the  power  and  dignity  of  God,  sur- 
rounded thus  with  flames  and  flying  cherubs,  is 
remarkably  shown.  Modern  taste,  as  Crowe  and 
Cavalcaselle  rightly  observe,  which  has  slighted 
these  four  really  wonderful  compositions,  has  un- 
doubtedly been  influenced  to  its  unjust  decision  by 
the  state  of  the  frescoes.  The  original  colours  have 
been  retouched,  the  background  entirely  repainted 
by  Carlo  Maratta.    The  rawness  of  the  edges  and 


176  Ube  Htt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

the  discrepancy  between  the  new  and  old  make  the 
actual  sight  of  these  gems  almost  less  valuable  and 
less  just  than  the  photographic  reproductions  of 
them. 

Heliodorus  Driven  from  the  Temple,  the  fresco 
which  gives  its  name  to  the  room,  is  a  composition, 
every  part  of  which  conforms  to  the  crescent-shaped 
space  on  which  it  is  painted.  The  groups  are  dis- 
tributed so  that  in  the  centre  of  the  half-circle  are 
the  empty  steps  leading  to  the  temple.  The  centre 
of  interest,  therefore,  instead  of  being  the  central 
part  of  the  picture,  is  here  divided  evenly  between 
both  sides.  The  balance  is  exactly  maintained,  and 
the  result  is  a  composition  as  unusual  in  its  distribu- 
tion as  it  is  in  its  action.  Within  and  between  the 
pillars  of  the  temple  that  border  the  central  aisle  of 
the  edifice,  is  the  altar  at  which  kneels  the  High 
Priest  Onias.  About  him  are  the  priests  of  Aaron, 
the  light  from  the  row  of  tapers  in  front  of  Onias 
dimly  illuming  their  faces  and  robes.  At  the  left, 
on  the  pavement  and  steps  leading  to  the  Presbytery, 
is  a  striking  group  of  worshippers,  mostly  women 
and  children,  who  are  staring  with  excited  wonder 
and  exclamatory  gestures  at  the  rout  across  the 
temple.  Here,  a  gold-armoured  avenger  seated  on  a 
rearing  horse  has  thrown  to  the  ground  Heliodorus, 
who  vainly  tries  to  protect  himself  from  the  plung- 
ing fore-feet  of  the  excited  animal.    He  has  dropped 


Ubc  Stanse  ot  IRapbael  177 

to  the  ground  the  jar  full  of  the  stolen  treasures,  and 
the  golden  pieces  are  spilling  all  over  the  pavement. 
By  the  side  of  the  dancing  horse,  gliding  over  the 
ground  their  feet  do  not  actually  touch,  are  the 
angelic  messengers,  who,  with  the  scourges  in  their 
hands,  threaten  the  two  companions  of  the  prostrate 
chamberlain.  The  scene  in  the  other  half  of  the 
picture  is  very  different.  Borne  on  a  chair  carried 
by  two  figures,  recognised  as  portraits  of  Marcan- 
tonio  and  Giulio  Romano,  is  Julius  II.,  a  living  type 
of  the  victory  of  the  Church. 

The  state  of  this  fresco  is  bad,  dark,  and  dull, 
especially  in  the  right-hand  groups.  Heliodorus  is 
much  injured.  A  flue  of  a  chimney  ran  up  behind 
the  wall,  and  caused  numberless  bad  cracks.  Though 
the  wall  was  clamped  to  prevent  damage,  many 
parts  of  it  have  been  repainted  to  its  exceeding  detri- 
ment, while  other  parts  have  turned  muddy  and  gray 
and  dark.  It  is  supposed  that  the  chief  harm  was 
done  in  1527,  during  the  Spanish  occupation  of  the 
palace.  It  is  evident  that  both  Giovanni  da  Udine 
and  Giulio  Romano  largely  assisted  Raphael  in  this 
composition. 

In  effect  the  Heliodorus  is  rather  dark  in  tone. 
Opposite  it  Raphael  placed  the  glowing  Attila,  just 
as  on  the  walls  with  the  windows  he  balanced  the 
high  key  of  the  Mass  of  Bolsena  with  the  shadows 
of  St.  Peter's  Prison.    The  Attila,  originally  ordered 


178  XTbc  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

by  Julius  II.,  was  completed  under  Leo  X.,  and  in 
the  representation  of  the  Pope  of  the  middle  ages 
Raphael  immortalised  his  new  patron.  The  fresco 
shows  the  horde  of  Huns  filling  more  than  half 
the  crescent.  In  the  middle,  mounted  on  his  war- 
horse,  richly  robed  and  crowned,  is  Attila  himself, 
gazing  terror-struck  at  the  vision  in  the  flaming 
sky.  In  his  consternation  he  has  flung  his  arms  to 
the  left,  and  both  his  horse  and  the  white  charger, 
shown  in  the  right  foreground,  are  as  frightened  as 
their  riders.  They  pause  and  rear  and  snort,  giving 
splendid  lines  and  positions  for  the  master's  brush. 
The  white  steed,  in  the  present  state  of  the  fresco, 
where  so  much  is  unduly  blackened,  comes  out 
rather  too  strongly  for  the  perfect  harmony  of  the 
composition,  but  in  itself  is  a  wonderful  example  of 
a  wildly  excited,  nobly  proportioned  animal,  magnif- 
icently seated  by  the  corsleted,  helmeted  figure.  All 
about  are  the  hordes,  some  mounted,  some  on  foot, 
all  evincing  fearful  fright.  The  daring  poses  of 
beast  and  man  add  to  the  intense  breathlessness  of 
the  scenes.  At  the  left  of  the  centre  are  two  warriors 
facing  each  other,  whose  splendid  forms,  massive 
muscles,  and  fine  grouping  are  one  of  the  best  bits 
in  the  whole  picture.  The  extreme  left  is  taken  by 
Leo  on  his  famous  white  palfrey,  his  ringed  hand 
raised,  as  if  calling  upon  Heaven's  intervention. 
Dignity,  assurance,  repose  are  the  strongest  char- 


5 

O    c^ 

«^       OS 

1-1  Q^ 

<    ^ 


^  OF  THE      ^P 

or 


Ube  Stan3e  ot  IRapbacl  iSi 

acteristics  of  this  portrait  face,  with  its  puffy  flesh, 
keen  and  protruding  eye.  Above,  in  the  sky,  are 
St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  the  vision  called  forth  by 
the  Pope,  and  which  has  resulted  in  the  stampede  of 
the  enemy.  Both  hold  swords,  Peter  carrying 
besides  the  keys.  They  are  conceived  with  a  gran- 
deur of  form  and  impressive  appearance  that,  though 
not  suggesting  the  actual  shapes  of  Michelangelo,  at 
least  express  the  power  his  figures  always  conveyed. 
Beyond,  in  the  left  distance,  against  a  glowing  sky 
are  the  lines  of  the  aqueduct  and  the  Colosseum. 
The  Pope  is  surrounded  with  his  churchmen,  and 
one  of  the  cardinals  is  a  duplicate  of  his  own  face. 
This  was  because  the  fresco  was  begun  when  Leo 
X.  was  still  cardinal,  and  the  Pope  was  intended  to 
be  a  representation  of  Julius  11.  The  riotous  move- 
ment of  the  composition  is  admirably  if  somewhat 
arbitrarily  balanced  by  the  quiet,  solemn  group  of 
the  Church  and  the  saints  in  the  sky.  Power,  all 
through,  —  that  is  perhaps  the  strongest  impression 
it  conveys.  It  is  not  all  by  the  hand  of  Raphael, 
this,  as  well  as  the  Heliodorus,  plainly  showing  the 
marks  of  his  assistants.  It  has  been  retouched,  also, 
to  its  great  harm,  and  the  ground  is  badly  injured  by 
corrosion  of  the  plaster. 

Over  the  window  opposite  the  Mass  of  Bolsena 
is  the  Deliverance  of  Peter.  It  is  as  simple  in  its 
(Construction  as  the  Heliodorus  and  Attila  are  com- 


i82  XTbe  Hrt  of  tbe  Datican 

pi  ex.  There  are  even  less  figures  than  in  the  Bolsena. 
Of  the  four  it  is  perhaps  the  one  that  most  appeals 
to  the  modern  spectator.  The  sentiment  of  it  is 
wonderfully,  beautifully,  expressed.  Directly  over 
the  window  is  the  prison  itself,  clearly  indicated  by 
the  barred  door  and  the  heavy  framing  pillars. 
Leading  down  from  both  sides  of  the  window  are  the 
steps  of  the  prison,  where  the  guards  are  sleeping. 
Within  the  bars  where  Peter  lies  manacled  and  con- 
nected by  chains  to  his  two  guards,  is  the  angel  bend- 
ing over  the  prostrate  saint.  The  glory  that  fills 
the  gloom  of  the  prison  seems  really  of  celestial 
origin.  Its  soft  effulgence  does  not  partake  of  the 
mundane.  At  the  same  timie  the  original  darkness 
of  the  dungeon  is  hinted  at  in  the  atmosphere  that 
surrounds  the  light.  Three  of  the  guards  on  the 
steps  at  the  left  of  the  prison  are  roused  from  their 
sleep  by  a  startled  soldier,  who  points  to  the  prison 
as  he  strides  upward.  In  the  sky  the  heavy  clouds 
part  about  the  crescent  moon,  answering  the  flaring 
torch  that  the  soldier  carries.  On  the  other  side, 
holding  by  the  hand  the  dazed  and  wondering  Peter, 
the  angel,  still  with  something  of  the  glory  that 
flooded  the  prison,  is  leading  the  released  safely 
down  by  the  two  guards  deep  in  the  heaven-sent 
sleep.  The  angel  here  is  supposed  to  be  mostly 
untouched  and  to  be  wholly  Raphael's  work.  The 
grace  and  curve  of  the  figure,  the  benignity  of  the 


Ube  Stanse  ot  IRapbael  183 

face,  the  lightness  of  the  poise,  contrasted  with  the 
duller,  heavier,  half-realising  Peter,  all  are  wonder- 
fully portrayed.  The  way  also  in  which  the  light 
strikes  different  bits  of  the  steel  armours  has  a 
realistic  incisiveness  not  often  acquired.  Techni- 
cally, such  a  presentation  of  different  moments  of 
time  in  the  one  composition  is  a  transgression  of 
the  laws  of  composition.  Actually,  in  spite  of  a 
certain  theatric  quality,  Raphael's  success  in  thus 
presenting  them  proved  his  superiority  to,  and  his 
right  to  disregard,  what  rules  did  not  serve  his 
immediate  purpose.  As  an  effect  in  chiaroscuro  he 
has  perhaps  never  surpassed  it.  The  most  injured 
parts  are  the  figure  of  Peter,  and  the  guards  asleep 
on  the  right-hand  steps.  The  angel  in  the  cell  is  also 
badly  corroded,  and  has  been  repainted  in  spots,  and 
the  landscape  and  sky  on  the  left  have  been  almost 
entirely  modernised. 

The  Miracle  of  Bolsena  was  painted  in  remem- 
brance of  a  legend  of  the  thirteenth  century  of  an 
unbelieving  priest,  who,  while  officiating,  suddenly 
saw  drops  of  blood  issuing  from  the  Host.  In  the 
fresco  the  features  of  Urban  IV.  are  no  longer  his. 
Julius  11.  has  taken  his  place.  He  kneels  at  one  end 
of  the  altar,  which  is  the  centre  of  the  picture,  his  el- 
bows resting  upon  a  cushioned  stool.  Opposite  him  is 
the  priest  lifting  a  wafer  marked  with  the  cross,  and 
from  which  drops  of  blood  are  falling.    Behind  him, 


i84  trbe  art  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

on  a  level,  are  the  acolytes  with  their  lighted  tapers. 
This  group  is  placed  in  front  of  a  screen,  dividing 
them  from  the  nave  of  a  church  whose  receding 
pillars  are  seen  over  their  heads.  Low  down,  behind 
the  Pope,  are  two  cardinals  and  two  prelates,  and 
still  lower,  on  the  ground,  are  the  liveried  bearers, 
gazing  up  at  the  miracle.  Their  rich  costumes  give 
a  fine  spot  of  colour  to  the  foreground.  In  the  other 
half  the  congregation  watch  the  amazing  sight  with 
excited  gestures  or  quiet  interest,  while  leaning  over 
the  screen  behind  the  priest  are  two  men,  one  point- 
ing out  the  miracle  to  the  other.  This  composition 
is  supposed  to  be  almost  entirely  from  Raphael's 
own  hand.  The  purity  and  transparence  of  the 
colour,  the  exquisite  finish  of  the  modelling,  along 
with  the  subtile  variety  in  each  personage,  are 
unequalled  by  any  other  fresco  in  the  room.  Un- 
equalled, one  may  say,  by  any  other  fresco  in  the 
world.  There  is  in  this,  too,  no  trace  of  the  influence 
of  Michelangelo  which  is  so  often  evident  in  many  of 
the  other  paintings.  Rather,  as  Crowe  and  Caval- 
caselle  have  noted,  it  carries  one  back  to  the  portrait 
work  of  Domenico  Ghirlandajo,  or  to  the  breadth 
of  treatment  and  massive  distribution  of  Masaccio. 
Added,  is  a  Venetian  glow  and  depth  of  colour. 
The  scheme  of  colour,  nevertheless,  by  which  the 
principals  are  thrown  into  light,  higher  tones  against 
the  dark  screen,  is  peculiarly  Raphaelesque,  as  well 


Ube  Stanae  of  IRapbael  i^s 

as  is  the  manner  in  which  the  groups  below  are  in 
the  darker  tones,  relieved  by  richness  of  garb  rather 
than  by  effect  of  light. 

If  the  two  larger  wall  paintings  of  the  Stanza  d' 
Eliodoro  had  been  as  fully  executed  by  the  master's 
brush  as  the  two  smaller,  the  room,  it  is  safe  to  say, 
would  have  been  a  greater  monument  to  his  genius, 
even,  than  the  Camera  della  Segnatura.  As  it  is, 
though  in  spots  he  rises  in  the  Eliodoro  to  heights, 
especially  in  technique,  above  the  level  of  the  other, 
taken  altogether  the  first  room  of  the  series  still 
ranks  as  a  more  perfect  ensemble. 
.  Among  the  other  painters  whom  Raphael  had  dis- 
placed in  the  Vatican  was  Perugino,  his  old  master. 
Perhaps  out  of  respect,  perhaps  from  lack  of  time 
to  create  new,  he  left  unchanged  the  ceiling  decora- 
tion of  the  latter  in  the  Stanza  dell'  Incendio.  It  is 
not  important  decoration,  even  for  Perugino,  and 
there  is  an  immeasurable  distance  between  these 
"  tondi  "  and  the  ceiling  of  the  Eliodoro.  There  is, 
nevertheless,  a  certain  charm  about  these  frescoes 
of  saints  and  angels  that  recall  some  of  the  more 
delicate  and  spiritual  works  of  the  Perugian. 

Of  the  four  wiall  paintings  by  far  the  best  is  the 
one  from  which  the  room  receives  its  name,  —  the 
Incendio  del  Borgo.  It  was  designed  to  commemo- 
rate the  fire  that  took  place  in  the  Saxon  quarter 
of  Rome  in  the  seventh  century,  and  which  Leo 


i36  Zbc  art  ot  tbe  Dattcan 

IV.  is  said  to  have  put  out  by  miaking  the  sign  of 
the  cross. 

In  the  centre,  at  the  back  of  the  composition  in 
the  Portico  of  St.  Peter's,  is  the  Pope,  with  the 
features  of  Leo  X.  An  excited  crowd  swarm  below 
him  on  the  top  of  the  wide  steps,  while  below,  on 
each  side,  are  the  burning  ruins.  On  the  right  the 
people  are  carrying  water  in  jars  and  pouring  it 
upon  the  flames,  not  yet  conscious  that  the  pontiff's 
efforts  are  to  still  the  raging  fire.  On  the  other 
side  they  are  beyond  making  any  attempt  at  killing 
the  conflagration.  Their  whole  efforts  are  directed 
toward  saving  their  lives.  One  is  climbing  down 
the  wall,  another  is  dropping  a  child  into  arms 
below,  a  son  is  carrying  a  father  off  on  his  shoulders. 
In  the  foreground  an  hysterical  mob  of  women  and 
children  kneel  and  supplicate  the  Holy  Father,  dupli- 
cated by  another  such  crowd  in  the  distance  nearer 
St.  Peter's.  This  latter  crowd,  by  the  way,  is  one 
of  the  best  balanced  and  composed  parts  of  the 
whole  fresco.  Connecting  the  central  foreground 
group  with  the  fire  extinguishers  on  the  right  is  a 
woman  who  drives  her  naked  children  before  her, 
while  she  hurries  along,  carrying  their  clothes  on 
her  arms.  Taken  as  a  whole,  perhaps  there  is 
more  variety  of  position,  more  life  and  novelty  of 
grouping,  than  in  almost  any  of  the  other  frescoes. 
The  extraordinary  amount  of  concentrated  interest 


9^     OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


Ubc  Stanse  of  IRapbael  189 

in  each  part,  however,  has  led  to  an  accumulation  of 
points  of  focus.  Leo  is  too  far  in  the  background  to 
be  anything  more  than  the  literary  centre.  Of  the 
other  groups  there  is  a  different  interest  attaching 
to  the  two  water-bearing  damsels  on  the  right  than 
there  is  to  the  praying  group  in  the  centre,  or  the 
man  scaling  the  wall  on  the  left,  or  the  one  borne 
on  his  son's  shoulders.  Diverse  as  these  groups  are, 
they  are  of  equal  prominence  in  placing,  and  one's 
eye  wanders  over  the  wall  without  finding  a  central 
point  of  rest.  There  is  no  doubt  but  Raphael  was 
here  largely  assisted  by  his  pupils,  and  it  is  to  them 
most  of  the  exaggerations,  the  attitudinisings,  the 
spreading  of  arms,  and  the  coarse  lines  must  be 
credited.  Yet  there  is  nevertheless  a  grand  manner 
in  it  all,  and  Raphael's  powerful  conception  is 
plainly  felt,  even  under  the  most  careless  of  assist- 
ants' brushes.  The  state  of  the  fresco  is  bad.  One 
fissure  runs  down  obliquely  through  the  centre,  and 
the  ground  has  been  repainted  in  spots  as  well  as 
the  sky. 

Raphael  is  not  nearly  so  strongly  felt  in  the  other 
three  frescoes  of  the  room.  Here  he  frankly  turned 
over  most  of  the  labours  to  his  aides,  and  satisfied 
himself  with  merely  a  cursory  superintendence.  It 
is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  they  fall  far  below 
the  standard  of  the  great  Urbinate. 

Historically  the  Coronation  of  Charlemagne  rep- 


I90  XTbe  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

resents  the  presentation  of  the  crown  of  the  empire 
to  the  King  of  the  Franks  by  Leo  III.  In  the  fresco 
Leo  III.  has  become  Leo  X.,  and  Charlemagne  is 
Francis  I.  Here,  even  the  faces  of  the  king  and 
pontiff  show  no  sign  of  the  master's  hand.  The 
scene  was  depicted  as  taking  place  in  St.  Peter's, 
as  it  was  in  its  half-built  state.  Consequently  there 
are  seen  about  many  hangings  and  draperies,  used 
to  cover  the  ruins  and  unfinished  walls.  Considering 
the  mixed-up  setting,  it  is  remarkable  that  Raphael 
got,  or  constrained  his  pupils  to  get,  the  concord  that 
is  shown  here.  In  the  middle  distance,  slightly  at 
the  left,  sits  Leo,  on  his  draped  throne,  holding  with 
both  hands  the  crown  he  is  about  to  place  on  the 
head  of  the  kneeling  Charlemagne.  All  around  are 
gathered  the  cardinals,  and  it  is  in  these,  each 
almost  identically  robed,  and  all  close  together,  where 
Raphael's  own  brush  shows.  Every  individual  head 
is  a  personal  study  in  its  turn,  line,  and  expression. 
The  extreme  left  of  the  foreground  is  occupied 
by  the  bearers  of  the  heavy  silver  gifts  of  Charle- 
magne. Over  their  heads  a  part  of  a  gallery  shows 
choir-boys  watching  the  proceedings.  The  state 
of  the  fresco  is  injured,  both  by  repainting  and  by 
abrasion.  The  heavy,  opaque  shadows  are  due  to 
the  restorer's  hand. 

The  Oath  of  Pope  Leo,  on  the  other  window  wall, 
is  also  largely  by   Raphael's   assistants,  but  still 


Ube  Stan3c  ot  IRapbael  191 

showing  the  fine  conception,  the  magnificent  massing 
and  space-filling,  always  characteristics  of  Raphael. 
In  the  centre  over  the  window  is  the  altar,  Leo 
behind  it,  with  his  hand  on  the  open  book,  gazing 
heavenward.  At  his  right  shoulder  is  the  mitre- 
bearer,  and  beside  him  stands  a  cardinal,  who  is 
lifting  Leo's  embroidered  mantle.  The  rest  of  the 
cardinals  stand  in  a  semicircle  round  the  altar.  At 
the  back,  raised,  a  clerk  holds  the  crown  of  Charle- 
magne, while  the  king  himself  is  upright,  nearly 
back  to,  his  head  in  profile,  dressed  like  a  Roman 
patrician,  with  a  magnificent  gold  chain  on  his 
shoulders.  He  is  pointing  to  the  Pope.  On  each 
side  of  this  scene  steps  lead  to  the  ground,  where  are 
mace-bearers  and  some  of  the  military  following 
of  the  Pope.  The  fresco  is  faded  and  repainted  so 
much  that  parts  about  the  window  are  almost 
wholly  gone. 

On  the  remaining  unbroken  wall  is  the  Battle  of 
Ostia,  representing  Leo  X.  as  Leo  IV.,  after  the 
so-called  miraculous  annihilation  of  the  Saracen 
galleys,  when,  in  846,  they  threatened  Ostia.  The 
storm  which  arose,  scattering  and  destroying  their 
fleet,  was  supposed  to  be  due  wholly  to  the  prayers 
of  the  Pope.  The  distance  shows  the  ships  of  the 
Saracens,  where  the  battle  is  still  raging.  Some  of 
these  battle-ships  are  in  the  bay,  away  from  the 
shore,  others  are  apparently  alongside  the  landing 


192  tTbe  Hrt  ot  tbe  Dattcan 

of  a  sort  of  tower-like  octagonal  building  that  con- 
nects an  open-arched  portal  with  other  walls  and 
buildings.  Here,  in  front  of  the  archway,  a  party  of 
the  enemy  is  landed  from  a  small  boat.  In  the  fore- 
ground the  prisoners  are  being  hauled  on  shore  and 
led  captive  to  the  Pope,  who  sits  at  the  left  raised 
on  a  block  of  marble.  Behind  him  are  the  cardinals, 
Giulio  de'  Medici  and  Bibbiena,  and  all  about  him  are 
members  of  his  suite.  With  uplifted  hands  and 
ecstatic  face  the  Pope  is  blessing  Heaven  for  this 
victory  to  the  Christians.  Below,  at  his  feet,  his 
captains  are  hauling  the  captive  Saracens  before  him. 
In  the  groupings  of  these  struggling,  suffering  nude 
figures,  Raphael  has  marvellously  displayed  his  com- 
plete knowledge  of  the  human  form.  They  are  being 
stabbed,  pierced,  trampled  upon,  by  their  victors. 
Out  of  the  boat  on  the  right,  two  of  them,  with  their 
hands  bound  behind,  are  being  dragged  to  shore  by 
their  hair.  Everywhere  torture,  injury,  frightful 
hurt,  —  and  it  affects  the  Pope  not  at  all.  He 
apparently  regards  all  the  agonies  inflicted  upon 
the  heathen  prisoners  as  merely  the  just  decree  of 
Heaven,  —  the  Christians  being  only  the  instruments 
of  divine  wrath.  Raphael  has  made  the  Saracens 
a  fierce,  barbarous  looking  race,  evidently  for  dra- 
matic emphasis  of  the  differences  between  them  and 
their  captors.  The  Pope's  portrait  is  probably  from 
his  own  hand,  as  well  as  the  two  cardinals  behind 


Zbc  Stanse  ot  IRapbael  193 

him.  All  three  show  Raphael  at  the  very' amplitude 
of  his  powers.  The  fresco  is  badly  restored,  black- 
ened, and  cracked.  Several  large  fissures  have  made 
their  appearance  through  the  most  important  of  the 
groups,  and  a  number  of  the  figures  have  been  re- 
painted many  times.  Even  the  faces  of  the  Pope  and 
the  two  cardinals  and  the  crucifix-bearer  have  been 
hurt  to  a  tremendous  degree  by  retouching  and 
patching.  All  the  prisoners  forced  to  their  knees 
before  the  pontiff  are  in  a  lamentable  condition. 

The  last  of  the  three  roomis  which  can  really  claim 
Raphael  as  creator,  the  Stanza  dell'  Incendio,  is  also 
the  last  of  the  three  in  point  of  achievement.  The 
tendencies  to  exaggeration  and  unrestraint  that  are 
of  occasional  appearance  in  the  Eliodoro  are  here 
almost  an  integral  part  of  every  fresco.  Freedom 
and  variety  of  movement  have  often  degenerated 
into  contortions  and  calculated  posings,  the  "  grand 
manner  "  has  become  dangerously  like  pomposity. 
Yet,  as  the  American  editors  of  Vasari  say,  "  under 
and  behind  the  exaggeration  and  the  coldness  is 
still  the  superb  power  of  the  Renaissance;  we  are 
yet  close  to  the  life-giving  force  of  Raphael." 

In  the  Hall  of  Constantino,  the  last  of  the  Stanze 
that  was  to  have  even  a  word  of  direction  from  the 
great  master,  there  is  extremely  little  to  show  his 
part  in  the  work.    The  Defeat  of  Maxentius  con- 


194  XTbe  art  ot  tbc  tDatlcan 

tains  slight  signs  of  the  original  studies  by  Raphael, 
the  others  almost  none. 

Two-thirds  of  this  fresco  are  filled  with  the  rush 
of  the  victor  with  his  army  through  the  ranks  of 
his  enemy,  Maxentius  lying  head  foremost  and  life- 
less on  the  Tiber  bank.  Constantine,  with  his  spear 
poised,  has  come  safe  through.  Everywhere  the 
steeds  are  galloping,  struggling,  kicking,  or  being 
stricken  down.  Men  are  fighting  hand  to  hand,  with 
here  and  there  some  one  carrying  off  a  dead  friend. 
The  emperor  meanwhile  presses  on,  trampling  over 
his  foes.  Above  the  battle-ground  angels  are  hover- 
ing, guarding  Constantine,  and  assuring  him  vic- 
tory. 

The  Vision  of  the  Cross  on  the  wall  of  egress 
shows  Constantine  upon  a  rostrum,  in  the  middle 
of  his  camp.  In  the  heavens  above,  surrounded 
by  a  golden  glory,  three  angels  bear  a  cross  and 
advance  toward  a  dragon-like  monster  who  writhes 
in  contortions,  at  their  approach.  A  rush  of  soldiers 
and  people  before  Constantine  with  battle  standards 
flying  and  shields  and  spears  flashing  show  that  they, 
too,  see  the  vision.  Near  the  emperor  stands  his 
lieutenant,  and  at  the  extreme  right  a  dwarf  grins 
and  prances  as  he  tries  on  a  helmet  much  too  large. 
The  landscape  is  full  of  the  ruins  of  ancient  Rome. 

GiuHo  Romano,  largely  responsible  for  these  last 
two,  is  probably  also  the  author  of  the  Baptism 


XTbe  Stanae  ot  IRapbael  19s 

of  Constantine.  The  scene  is  laid  in  the  Basilica  of 
San  Giovanni  Laterano.  The  principal  figures  are 
grouped  on  a  circular  flight  of  steps.  At  their  foot 
Constantine  is  kneeling,  nearly  unrobed,  while  the 
Pope  Sylvester  pours  the  water  over  him.  The 
pontiff  has  his  left  hand  on  the  Gospels  held  up  to 
him  by  an  acolyte.  Near  by,  all  kneeling,  are  a 
servant  with  cloths,  a  deacon  with  a  salver,  and  a 
page  with  the  emperor's  breastplate,  sword  and 
helmet.  Behind  are  various  other  attendants  and 
prelates.  At  the  left  is  a  bearded  man  in  sixteenth- 
century  dress,  whom  Vasari  says  is  a  portrait  of 
Nicolo  Vespucci,  the  favourite  of  Clement  VII.  It 
is  possible  that  the  sketch  for  this  may  have  been 
by  Raphael. 

Last  of  the  four  principal  frescoes  is  the  Cession 
of  Rome  to  the  Papacy.  The  Pope,  enthroned  in 
the  old  basilica  of  St.  Peter,  is  receiving  from  the 
kneeling  Constantine  a  golden  statuette.  The  usual 
number  of  prelates,  cardinals,  and  ofificials  are 
grouped  about,  while  the  Swiss  Guard  restrains  the 
crowd.  On  the  high  altar  are  relics  of  St.  Peter 
and  St.  Paul,  and  under  the  pillars  on  the  right  is 
one  whom  tradition  says  is  Giulio  Romano,  and  on 
the  left  Baldassare  Castiglione.  Kneeling  or  playing 
on  the  foreground  are  women  and  children.  This 
is  so  poorly  executed  that  only  the  arrangement  and 
distribution  of  figures  is  supposed  to  be  by  Giulio 


19^  XCbe  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

Romano.  It  is  thought  that  his  assistant  Raphael 
del  Colle  did  almost  all  of  it. 

The  Stanza  di  Constantino  was  hardly  even 
planned  when  Raphael  died.  The  only  two  figures 
completed  were  Justice  and  Comity.  They  were 
executed  in  oil,  and  were  put  in  as  experiments  by 
Raphael.  When  Clement  VII.  came  to  Rome  taste 
had  returned  to  straight  fresco.  The  two  figures 
are  both  beautiful,  showing  many  touches  of  Ra- 
phael's own  hand.  The  scheme  of  the  whole  was  to 
represent  the  frescoes  as  if  they  were  painted  upon 
tapestry  that  hung  about  the  walls.  This  necessitated 
the  rich  borderings  and  the  imitations  of  niches, 
with  figures  in  relief,  or  of  detached  statues  all 
about. 

On  the  ceiling  of  the  hall  are  various  pictures 
by  Tommaso  Laureti  and  Antonio  Scalvati,  under 
the  orders  of  Sixtus  V.  They  are  exceedingly 
ornate,  but  not  of  great  artistic  importance.  Raphael 
dead,  there  was  no  one  to  take  his  place.  His  pupils 
could  only  imitate  him,  and  never  at  his  best.  No 
more  striking  proof  of  the  futility  of  their  efforts 
could  be  found  than  to  compare  the  Stanza  di  Con- 
stantino with  any  one  of  the  other  three.  Michel- 
angelo still  lived,  but  the  Renaissance  was  already 
dying. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


RAPHAEL^'S   LOGGIE 


After  Bramante's  death,  Raphael  reconstructed 
one  of  the  great  architect's  famous  Vatican  loggie, 
and  built  a  third.  It  is  with  the  one  that,  to  save 
from  becoming  a  premature  ruin,  he  strengthened 
and  supported,  that  the  painter's  name  is  most  uni- 
versally associated.  For  more  than  four  hundred 
years  this  long,  delicate  corridor  overlooking  the 
Court  of  St.  Damasus  has  been  known  best  as 
Raphael's  Bible.  When  one  considers  that  the  Bible 
scenes  which  have  given  it  this  name  occupy  a  very 
small  space  in  the  midst  of  a  decoration  that  covers 
the  whole  of  the  vaulting,  the  pilasters,  and  the  walls 
of  the  loggie,  one  realises  that  it  is  what  may  be 
called  the  literary  side  of  the  painter's  art  which 
gives  it  fame  to  the  world  at  large.  Nevertheless 
it  is  the  purely  decorative  portions  of  this  wonderful 
whole  that  generations  of  less  gifted  decorators, 
designers  and  architects  have  found  a  mine  inex- 
haustible in  suggestion,  fancy,  and  charm. 

The  gallery  is  divided  into  thirteen  compartments, 

197 


198  Ube  Hrt  of  tbe  Datfcan 

so  to  speak,  by  twelve  pillars  and  pilasters,  the  vault- 
ing of  each  of  these  divisions  being  a  square,  domed 
cupola.  This  roofing  is  entirely  covered  with  an 
ornamentation  that  encircles  and  separates  four 
rectangle  or  hexagonal  spaces,  placed  one  on  each 
side  of  the  square  that  converges  into  the  dome.  It 
is  in  these  fifty-two  small  interspaces  where  are 
painted  the  series  of  Biblical  pictures.  Bordering 
them,  filling  the  angles  and  curves  of  the  dome,  in 
the  walling  between  the  pilasters,  on  the  faces  of 
pillar  and  pilaster,  around  the  entrances,  on  the 
embrasures  of  the  windows,  everywhere,  leaving  not 
an  uncovered  inch,  are  stucco-work  and  mono- 
chromes imitating  reliefs,  grotesques,  wreaths  of 
fruit  and  flowers,  birds,  children,  landscapes,  fishes, 
musical  instruments,  beasts,  all  kinds  of  conven- 
tionalised animals,  reptiles,  fanciful  arabesques,  and 
scrolls,  —  all  painted  in  the  brightest  and  gayest 
of  colours.  So  bright  that  even  to-day,  in  spite  of 
weather  and  time,  and  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  flakes 
of  the  plaster  are  continually  sifting  down,  —  with 
an  ultimate  and  sure  ruin  as  consequence,  —  even  to- 
day the  gay  freshness  of  the  tones  is  a  marvel  and 
delight.  The  designs  themselves,  in  their  sponta- 
neous fertility  of  invention,  their  fantastical  orig- 
inality, their  exuberance  of  colour,  and  a  very 
abandon  of  richness  and  floridity,  yet  are  so  com- 
bined and  made  into  such  a  perfect  ensemble  that 


RAPHAEL'S    LOGGIE 


IRapbaers  Xo^^fe  aoi 

there  is  not  a  hint  of  useless  or  overdone  ex^gera- 
tion  in  part  or  whole.  To  attempt  any  adequate 
description  of  this  ornamentation  would  require 
many  volumes.  Volpato  and  Ottaviani  during  the 
eighteenth  century  started  to  make  them  well  known 
through  engravings,  but  stopped  long  before  they 
had  completed  the  work. 

The  stimulus  for  decoration  of  this  character  was 
doubtless  found  in  the  excavations  of  ancient  Rome, 
especially  in  the  baths  of  the  emperors,  where  wall 
paintings  were  full  of  quaint  grotesques  of  all  kinds. 
But  these  loggie  of  Raphael  surpass  not  only  all 
Roman  excavations,  but  they  conform  more  per- 
fectly and  yet  more  originally  to  the  spirit  of  ancient 
art  than  do  even  the  best  of  the  long-after  discovered 
walls  of  Pompeii. 

Up  to  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century 
the  whole  corridor  was  open  to  wind  and  weather. 
At  that  time  it  was  concluded  worth  while  to  take 
some  ordinary  precautions  for  the  preservation  of 
this  priceless  heritage,  and  forthwith  the  open  ar- 
cades were  furnished  with  windows. 

Although  these  loggie  are  always  given  Raphael's 
name,  as  a  matter  of  fact  he  himself  painted  not 
one  stroke  of  them.  It  is  even  claimed  that  he  did  not 
so  much  as  make  the  original  drawing  for  any  part. 
Vasari  states  that  he  gave  the  stucco-work  and  paint- 
ing of  the  grotesques  to  Giovanni  da  Udine,  that  of 


202  Zbc  Btt  of  tbe  IDattcan 

the  figures  to  Giulio  Romano,  who,  however,  did 
not  do  many  of  them.  This  last  is  probably  a  mis- 
take. Giulio  unquestionably  had  a  very  large  share 
in  the  work.  With  these  two  noted  pupils  of  Ra- 
phael were  also  associated  Perino  dd  Vaga,  Penni, 
Pellegrino  da  Modena,  Vincenzo  da  San  Gimignano, 
Polidoro  da  Caravaggio,  and  Bologna,  Yet,  though 
Raphael's  hand  is  nowhere  actually  seen,  his  mind 
and  spirit  everywhere  are.  At  the  time  when  the 
loggie  were  painted,  toward  the  close  of  15 17,  Ra- 
phael was  surrounded  with  a  corp  of  assistants  who 
were  to  him  like  so  many  extra  hands.  So  well  did 
they  understand  his  methods  and  ways  of  working 
that,  it  has  been  conjectured,  he  needed  only  to  indi- 
cate hastily  with  a  few  determined  strokes  the  main 
points  of  a  composition.  The  best  of  his  co-workers 
were  then  able  to  transfer  it  to  wall  or  canvas,  prac- 
tically as  the  master  had  conceived  it.  Practically, 
that  is,  so  far  as  the  distribution  of  mass,  general 
scheme  of  chiaroscuro,  main  dependence  and  inter- 
dependence of  figures,  in  groups  or  singly.  Beyond 
this,  they  could  go  only  so  far  as  their  individual 
talents  would  let  them.  The  result  of  it  all  is  a 
magnitude  of  work  passing  under  Raphael's  name 
with  much  of  which  his  brush  never  came  in  contact. 
In  almost  every  case,  however,  it  is  saved  from 
mediocrity,  and  often  is  raised  to  highest  artistic 
value  by  the  compelling  power  of  the  genius  that 


IRapbaers  Xoggic  203 

was  the  source  of  the  inspiration  behind  the  brush 
work.  Without  question,  the  loggie  would  be  more 
beautiful  if  Raphael  had  painted  them.  There  would 
never  have  been  the  sometimes  unpleasant  brick  reds 
now  in  the  figures,  nor  the  heavy,  often  coarse,  out- 
lines, and  certain  crudities  of  colour  and  uncertain- 
ties of  expression  would  surely  have  been  very  differ- 
ent under  the  harmonious  and  vivid  touch  of  the 
Urbinate's  hand.  But  if  Raphael  had  executed  these 
frescoes,  the  world  in  consequence  would  have  lost 
many  other  of  the  precious  works  better  worthy  of 
his  genius.  And  even  as  it  now  is,  this  composite 
work  of  Raphael's  aids  ranks  high  among  the  great 
wall  decorations  of  the  world.  It  is  not  too  much 
to  say  that  hardly  any  other  surpasses  it  in  an 
ingenuous  gaiety,  a  fresh  splendour,  and,  in  the 
scenes  themselves,  in  a  simple  directness  that  is  noble 
in  its  simplicity,  and  wonderfully  dramatic  in  its 
pictorial  treatment. 

Of  the  fifty-two  small  frescoes  in  the  thirteen  bays, 
in  general  it  may  be  said  that  they  almost  literally 
translate  the  Bible  words  they  illustrate.  Yet  so 
natural,  unforced,  inevitable  are  the  compositions, 
that  they  seem  not  at  all  constrained  by  the  subject. 
They  appear  to  have  been  designed  wholly  with  the 
decorative  point  of  view  in  mind.  The  simplicity 
and  straightforwardness  in  the  telling  of  each  story 
is  very  unlike  the  way  in  which  Michelangelo  filled 


204  Ube  art  of  tbe  IDatican 

his  pictures  with  symbolical  allusions  and  concep- 
tions, which,  full  of  spiritual  significance  as  they 
may  be,  often  cause  confusion  in  the  observer's  mind. 
Raphael  chose  scenes  specially  adapted  to  pictorial 
representation,  while  Michelangelo,  even  when  he 
took  up  his  palette  and  brushes,  could  never  free 
himself  from  the  claims  of  sculpture.  The  surround- 
ings of  these  scenes  were  so  rich  and  varied  that 
Raphael  saw  at  once  the  paintings  ought  to  be  most 
marked  for  coherence,  sobriety,  and  clarity.  Like 
Ghiberti,  he  rendered  each  story  with  as  few  figures 
as  possible,  —  making  each  thereby  depend  for  its 
dramatic  value  upon  the  intensity  of  the  moment 
described.  So  great  a  result  with  so  few  means 
has  never  been  excelled.  Of  the  most  beautiful,  per- 
haps, are  Joseph  Interpreting  Pharaoh's  Dream, 
Building  of  the  Ark,  The  Angel's  Visit  to  Abraham, 
Moses  Striking  the  Rock,  Interview  of  Isaac  and 
Rebecca  with  Abimelech.  In  two  of  the  frescoes 
it  is  easy  to  trace  Raphael's  indebtedness  to  other 
masters.  Michelangelo's  influence  can  be  felt  in  the 
Creation,  Masaccio's  in  Adam  and  Eve  Driven  from 
Paradise.  In  all  the  others,  he  relies  not  at  all  upon 
artistic  tradition,  but  solely  upon  the  text  of  the 
Bible.  The  subjects  of  the  thirteen  bays  are  as 
follows : 

The  first  gives  four  views  of  the  Creation  of  the 
World:    God  Divides  Light  from  Darkness;    He 


IRapbaers  Xoggtc  205 

Separates  Land  and  Sea ;  Forms  Sun  and  Moon,  and 
Creates  the  Animals. 

Second  Bay  —  Story  of  Adam  and  Eve:  Crea- 
tion of  Eve;  The  Fall;  Exile  from  Eden;  Labours 
of  Adam  and  Eve. 

Third  Bay  —  Story  of  Noah:  Building  of  the 
Ark ;  Deluge ;  Coming  Forth  from  the  Ark ;  Noah's 
Sacrifice. 

Fourth  Bay  —  Story  of  Abraham:  Abraham  and 
Melchizedek ;  Covenant  of  God  with  Abraham ;  An- 
gel's Visit  to  Abraham ;  Flight  of  Lot. 

Fifth  Bay  —  Story  of  Isaac:  God  Appears  to 
Isaac;  Isaac  Embracing  Rebecca;  Isaac  Blessing 
Jacob;   Esau  Claiming  the  Blessing. 

Sixth  Bay  —  Story  of  Jacob:  Jacob's  Ladder; 
Jacob  and  Rachel ;  Jacob  Asking  for  Rachel's  Hand ; 
Flight  from  Laban. 

Seventh  Bay  —  Story  of  Joseph:  Joseph  Telling 
His  Dream  to  His  Brothers;  Joseph  Sold  into 
Egypt ;  Joseph  and  Potiphar's  Wife ;  Joseph  before 
Pharaoh. 

Eighth  Bay  —  Story  of  Moses:  Finding  of 
Moses ;  Burning  Bush ;  Passage  of  Red  Sea ;  Moses 
Striking  the  Rock. 

Ninth  Bay  —  Story  of  Moses,  continued:  Moses 
Receives  the  Tables  of  the  Law ;  Worship  of  Golden 
Calf;  Moses  Breaks  the  Tables ;  Moses  Before  the 
Pillar  of  Cloud. 


2o6  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  Dattcan 

Tenth  Bay  —  Story  of  Joshua:  Israelites  Cross 
the  Jordan;  Fall  of  Jericho;  Joshua  Stays  the 
Course  of  the  Sun ;  Division  of  the  Promised  Land. 

Eleventh  Bay  —  Story  '  of  Dauid:  David 
Anointed  King  of  Israel;  David  and  Goliath; 
Triumph  of  David ;  David  and  Bathsheba. 

Twelfth  Bay  —  Story  of  Solonwn:  Consecration 
of  Solomon;  Judgment  of  Solomon;  Queen  of 
Sheba ;  Building  of  the  Temple. 

Thirteenth  Bay  —  Story  of  Christ:  Adoration  of 
Shepherds ;  Adoration  of  Magi ;  Baptism  of  Christ ; 
Last  Supper. 

In  the  first  compartment  perhaps  the  best  of  the 
four  scenes  is  the  Separation  of  Sea  and  Land.  This 
little  fresco  —  and  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  in  all 
these  scenes  the  figures  are  only  about  a  foot  high  — 
is  wonderfully  fine,  of  pure  Raphaelic  character. 
Hovering  in  the  air  over  the  globe,  with  flying, 
splendidly  massed  draperies,  is  the  Almighty,  his 
right  hand  pointing  to  the  division  of  the  land  and 
sea,  his  right  forefinger  resting  upon  a  point  of  land 
that  projects  into  the  water.  A  group  of  trees 
partly  hidden  by  the  curve  of  the  sphere  gives  the 
finishing  touch  to  a  composition  as  simple  as  it  is 
dramatic  and  full  of  fire  and  imagination.  The 
colours  are  remarkably  preserved,  and  almost  it 
seems  good  enough  to  be  by  Raphael  himself. 

The  beautiful  landscape  in  the  Creation  of  Eve 


!      -.    . 

1  .,  - 

|;t<Wi|^j 

Hi 

1 

\.^ 

1  J^'.i'»  f;**p»Nri;  0'  . 

J'Pi 

STORY    OF    ADAM    AND    EVE 
In  Raphael's  Loggie 


IRapbaers  %OQQic  209 

has  become  sadly  demoralised  by  abrasion.  Here 
the  Eternal  is  a  man  gray  with  age,  wrapped  in  a 
heavy  mantle.  His  left  hand  is  upon  Eve's  shoulder, 
who,  nude,  stands  in  a  beseeching  attitude,  her  head 
inclined  to  Adam,  who  is  sitting  upon  a  bank  and 
pointing  to  the  place  of  his  missing  rib. 

It  is  the  expulsion  from  Eden  that  recalls  Masaccio 
in  Florence.  The  angel,  sword  in  hand,  descends  a 
flight  of  steps,  driving  the  two  sinners  before  him. 
Adam,  covering  his  face  with  his  hands,  is  fairly 
pushed  along  by  the  angel's  touch  on  his  shoulder. 
Eve,  whose  too  heavy  shape  is  distinctive  of  Giulio, 
goes  forward  with  lighter,  more  expectant  tread. 
It  is  not  difficult  to  fancy  an  excited  interest  in  her 
countenance  as  she  faces  the  unknown  before  her. 
The  light  strikes  the  front  of  the  angel's  robe,  and 
lines  the  upper  curve  of  his  wing  with  fine  effect. 
This  effect  is  intensified  by  the  shadow  that  glooms 
about  the  two  in  front,  and  is  answered  in  the  land- 
scape, which  behind  and  beyond  them  is  bathed  in 
light.  Unfortunately,  the  angel's  face  is  mostly  sunk 
into  oblivion,  it  is  so  badly  abraded.  The  land- 
scape, too,  is  discoloured. 

In  the  third  arcade,  Noah,  standing  by  the  mighty 
framework  of  the  ark,  and  the  workmen  whom  he  is 
superintending  are  forcibly  contrasted.  The  builders 
are  rough,  burly  workmen,  Noah  a  figure  of  dignity, 


2IO  Ube  art  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

and  with  a  commanding  bearing  increased  by  the 
noble  lines  of  his  full  drapery. 

The  story  of  Abraham  is  graphically  told,  espe- 
cially where  Melchizedek  and  his  people  bring  bread 
and  wine  to  the  patriarch.  In  the  foreground  centre 
are  the  large  and  beautifully  shaped  wine-jugs.  At 
the  side  of  one  stands  Melchizedek,  graciously  pre- 
senting them.  Abraham,  in  a  Roman  helmet  and 
arms,  with  a  lance  over  his  shoulder,  directs  the 
movements  of  the  slaves  carrying  the  baskets  of 
bread,  at  the  same  time  acknowledging  to  Mel- 
chizedek the  welcomeness  of  their  arrival.  The 
group  is  completed  by  attendants  on  each  side  offer- 
ing and  accepting  the  gifts.  It  is  much  damaged, 
and  in  many  places  has  lost  its  colour.  Yet  it  is 
distinctly  Raphaelic  in  the  grouping  and  balance, 
and  the  form  of  Melchizedek  recalls  St.  Paul  and  the 
apostles  in  the  cartoons. 

Lot,  Abandoning  Sodom,  strides  along  in  the  fore- 
ground, a  hand  in  each  of  his  daughters'.  Slightly 
behind  is  his  wife,  just  turning  for  the  fatal  back- 
ward look.  Arrested  as  she  is  stepping  forward, 
already  the  change  from  flesh  to  mineral  has  begun. 
She  is  painted  as  if  she  were  of  alabaster.  The  light 
strikes  the  group  squarely  in  front,  throwing 
shadows  under  their  feet.  The  figures  are  spirited 
in  movement,  but  somewhat  heavy  and  clumsy  in 
line. 


IRapbaers  Xoggte  «" 

In  the  bay  devoted  to  Isaac,  one  of  the  frescoes 
shows  the  Almighty  stretched  upon  a  whirl  of  clouds, 
his  figure  and  flying  robes  suggesting  him  of  the  Sis- 
tine.  With  his  left  arm  reaching  far  out,  he  warns 
Isaac,  who  kneels  in  the  foreground,  not  to  under- 
take the  journey  into  Egypt.  At  the  left,  under  a 
tree,  sits  Rebecca.  Isaac  is  modelled  on  the  an- 
tique, his  round  cap  rather  like  that  of  Mercury, 
but  his  limbs  are  too  heavy  for  the  fleet  god.  There 
is  a  grand  undulating  landscape  of  trees  and  grass 
leading  to  the  distance,  where  a  castle  on  a  hill  and 
a  chain  of  mountains  break  the  sky-line. 

Isaac  Blessing  Jacob  shows  the  old  'father  on  his 
couch,  the  upper  part  of  his  figure  nude.  He  is 
splendidly  drawn,  with  a  fine  head  whose  white  beard 
and  hair  give  him  the  appearance  of  a  Greek  phi- 
losopher. At  the  foot  kneel  Jacob  and  Rebecca  and 
three  sons,  while  at  the  door  enters  Esau.  In  com- 
parison with  the  patriarch,  the  others  are  poorly 
executed.    The  painting  of  this  is  assigned  to  Penni. 

Jacob's  Dream  is  differently  conceived  from  the 
one  in  the  Camera.  The  ladder  is  here  directly  in 
the  centre,  at  the  very  top  of  which  is  the  Lord, 
with  arms  wide  outspread.  Clouds  effectually  con- 
ceal the  sides  as  well  as  the  top  and  bottom  of  the 
ladder.  Jacob  lies  on  the  ground,  his  head  turned  so 
that,  if  his  eyes  opened,  he  could  see  the  double  line 
of  ascending  and  descending  angels.    The  composi- 


2U  XEbe  Hrt  of  tbe  IDattcan 

tion  is  possibly  more  graceful  than  the  otie  in  the 
Camera,  but  the  figure  of  Jacob  is  better  drawn  and 
has  more  nobility  in  the  latter.  In  this  of  the  loggie, 
the  chiaroscuro  is  extremely  happy,  particularly 
effective  being  the  figure  of  the  Almighty,  relieved 
against  a  bright  light  that  then  merges  into  the  dark- 
ness of  the  encircling  clouds.  The  picture  is  well 
preserved. 

In  the  Meeting  of  Rachel  and  Jacob  at  the  Well, 
where  a  flock  of  sheep  is  drinking,  Rachel,  as  well 
as  the  young  girl  beside  her,  has  a  grace  and  supple- 
ness foreshadowing  the  later  Italian  art. 

Two  very  good  panels  are  in  the  division  devoted 
to  Joseph.  Where  he  is  telling  his  dream  to  his 
brothers,  he  is  shown  in  the  midst  of  an  Oriental 
landscape,  a  flock  of  sheep  on  the  extreme  right,  his 
brothers  sitting  and  standing  about  him.  Against 
the  sky  above  are  two  disks  upon  which  the  dreams 
are  painted.  Joseph  is  delicately,  even  effeminately, 
formed,  his  charming  grace  in  vivid  contrast  to  the 
ruggedness  of  the  others.  The  groups  of  these  are 
skilfully  balanced,  and  well  indicate  their  surprise, 
indignation,  and  envy  as  they  listen.  The  three 
standing  with  locked  arms,  nearly  back  to,  are  espe- 
cially noteworthy  for  distribution  of  light  and  shade. 

Again  the  subject  is  a  dream.  This  time  Joseph 
is  interpreting  for  Pharaoh.  Within  a  room  whose 
two  arcade  openings  look  on  to  a  pastoral  scene. 


IRapbaera  Xoggte  iij 

Joseph,  with  the  courtiers  grouped  behind  him, 
stands  before  the  king.  Pharaoh,  sunken  in  thought, 
sits  in  profile  at  the  left,  his  hand  feeling  his  beard. 
The  dreams  are  again  painted  upon  the  conventional 
disks  above  the  arcades.  There  is  a  certain  looseness 
of  massing  here,  at  variance  with  Raphael's  manner. 
The  best  part,  perhaps,  is  the  group  of  courtiers. 

The  Finding  of  Moses  is  at  the  moment  when  a 
couple  of  maids  of  Pharaoh's  daughter  have  just 
drawn  the  cradle  to  the  shore.  Two  of  them  are 
bending  over  it,  while  the  baby  reaches  out  his  arms 
in  delight.  A  number  of  maidens  behind  are  looking 
on  with  great  surprise,  while  the  princess  stands 
with  her  hands  outspread,  much  kindliness  in  face 
and  manner.  Beyond,  the  sun  is  setting  behind  the 
low  hills  that  slope  to  the  water's  edge,  lighting  with 
its  reflection  this  well-composed  group.  Vasari 
claims  it  to  be  wholly  Giulio's  composition. 

The  Passage  of  the  Red  Sea  shows  the  last  of  the 
fleeing  Israelites  crawling  on  to  the  land.  At  the 
extreme  end  of  all,  Moses,  with  his  wand,  is  directly 
in  front  of  the  pillar  of  fire.  The  chariots  and  horses 
of  the  Egyptians  have  fallen  victims  to  the  waves. 
Parts  of  this  composition  have  the  dignity  and  im- 
pressiveness  of  scenes  from  the  Sistine.  But  the  less 
compact  build  of  the  whole,  and  the  more  literal 
transference  of  studies  from  the  antique,  show  that 
Raphael's  hand  was  needed  here  to  give  it  that  vivi- 


214  Ube  Hrt  of  tbe  IDatlcan 

fying  touch  with  which  he  could  bring  untoward 
elements  into  glorious  unity.  It  has,  however,  great 
movement. 

The  positions  of  the  many  heads  of  the  kneeling 
or  ^  dancing  Israelites  about  the  Golden  Calf  are 
perhaps  the  most  skilful  parts  of  this  picture.  There 
is  great  diversity,  not  alone  in  the  way  the  heads  are 
turned  or  bent,  but  also  in  their  features  and  ex- 
pressions. 

Moses  Showing  the  Tablets  of  Law  to  the  Chil- 
dren of  Israel  is  a  finely  conceived  picture,  with  a 
dramatic  arrangement  of  light  and  shade.  Standing 
before  his  prostrate  people,  Moses  holds  the  tablets 
in  front  of  him,  three  of  his  elders  by  his  side.  The 
power  and  grandeur  of  his  face  are  striking.  The 
light  that  splashes  over  the  backs  of  his  attending 
priests,  and  leaves  the  rest  of  their  bodies  in  shadow, 
is  duplicated  by  equally  strongly  marked  effects  in 
the  crowd  in  front.  One  of  the  most  vigorously 
drawn  is  the  youth  kneeling  in  the  foreground,  his 
hands  resting  upon  his  staff. 

It  is  the  moment  just  before  the  cavalcade  leaves 
the  dry  land  that  is  illustrated  in  the  scene  called  the 
Transfer  of  the  Ark  through  the  Jordan.  The 
precious  Tabernacle,  a  wooden  construction  of  about 
the  shape  of  the  toy  arks  of  nursery  days,  is  carried 
by  priests  and  escorted  by  the  band  of  Israelites 
extending  in  a  curving  line  beyond.    A  man  in  feath- 


STORY    OF   JOSHUA 
In  Raphael's  Loggie 


1Rapbaer5  Xogatc  217 

ered  helmet,  with  rather  exaggerated  proportions, 
turns  to  direct  them.  At  the  other  side  is  a  seated 
river  god  of  antique  lines,  indicating  the  miraculous 
opening  for  the  passage.  Joshua,  in  the  middle  of 
the  foot  columns  on  a  white  horse,  raises  his  joined 
hands  to  heaven  in  prayer.  The  colours  of  this  scene 
are  harmonious,  in  a  light  key.  The  painting  is 
undoubtedly  by  Perino  del  Vaga. 

There  are  reminiscences  of  the  Battle  of  Ostia  in 
the  one  called  Joshua  Commanding  the  Sun  to  Stand 
Still,  without,  however,  the  splendid  control  of  the 
thing  as  a  whole.  It  is,  nevertheless,  an  exciting 
scene  of  carnage,  done  with  sufficient  abandon  fully 
to  show  the  onslaught  of  the  victorious  and  the  agony 
of  the  defeated.  Joshua,  on  his  w^hite  charger, 
rides  with  far-flung  arms,  demanding  the  sun  on 
one  side  and  the  moon  on  the  other  to  obey  his 
behests.  Youth  and  force  are  expressed  in  his  alert 
face  and  impetuous  movement.  Perino  del  Vaga  is 
again  assigned  as  author. 

One  of  the  very  best  of  the  frescoes  attributed  to 
this  painter  is  the  Triumph  of  David.  David,  in  his 
chariot,  follows  his  captive  prisoners,  one,  a  captain, 
with  his  hands  bound  behind  him  at  the  chariot's 
wheel.  Back  of  them  are  the  Israelites,  headed  by 
a  plumed  leader.  David  carries  his  harp  with  him, 
and  his  mien  is  that  of  a  serious,  deeply  thoughtful 
sage,  rather  than  that  of  a  victorious  warrior.    The 


2i8  XTbc  art  of  tbe  IDatican 

two  horses  of  the  chariot,  which  largely  fill  the  fore- 
ground, are  drawn  with  much  spirit  and  fire. 

Of  the  Solomon  arcade,  the  Reception  of  the 
Queen  of  Sheba  is  perhaps  the  most  satisfactory. 
The  character  and  build  of  several  of  the  figures  are 
more  suggestive  of  Giulio  Romano  than  of  Perino 
del  Vaga.  Solomon,  stepping  from  his  throne, 
meets  with  welcoming  hands  the  queen,  who  is 
already  flying  up  the  steps,  while  behind  her  are 
her  slaves,  heavily  laden  with  presents.  The  move- 
ment is  somewhat  forced  and  theatric.  The 
unqueenlike  rush  and  flying  draperies  of  her  of 
Sheba  are  amusingly  naive.  Yet  the  figures  are  well 
done,  the  king  at  the  right  of  the  throne,  standing 
back  to,  and  the  kneeling  slave  emptying  a  basin  of 
coins  upon  the  floor  being  particularly  felicitous. 
There  is,  too,  more  cohesion  in  the  grouping  than 
is  usual  with  Perino  del  Vaga. 

In  the  last  arcade,  the  Nativity  and  the  Adoration 
of  the  Magi  are  the  best.  The  composition  of  the 
latter  is  much  like  that  in  the  second  series  of  the 
tapestries,  but  has,  possibly,  a  better  unity  of  feeling. 
The  kneeling  Madonna  under  the  oblong  window, 
through  which  angels  are  throwing  flowers  and  bless- 
ings on  those  below,  has  a  Tuscan  charm  that  is 
emphasised  by  the  bright  if  now  disappearing 
colours.  The  Epiphany  is  more  solid,  oonstnictive, 
and  perhaps  more  Raphaelic  in  treatment.    In  fact, 


IRapbaers  Xoggie  219 

however,  the  whole  of  the  last  three  arcades,  com- 
pared with  the  others,  show  much  less  coherence  of 
design,  charm  of  feeling,  and  knowledge  of  tech- 
nique. 


CHAPTER   VII. 
Raphael's  tapestries 

The  Galleria  degli  Arazzi  is  one  dmsion  of  one 
of  the  long  galleries  built  by  Bramante  to  connect 
the  Vatican  proper  with  the  Belvedere.  Here,  on 
both  sides  of  the  badly  lighted  corridor,  hang,  among 
others,  the  ten  tapestries  called  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles,  the  cartoons  for  which  rank  among  the 
greatest  of  Raphael's  works. 

While  the  young  painter  from  Urbino  was  dec- 
orating the  Stanze,  Leo  X.  issued  a  new  order.  At 
this  time  St.  Peter's  was  still  in  such  an  unfinished, 
unroofed  condition  that  during  inclement  weather 
it  could  not  be  used.  On  such  occasions  the  cere- 
monies took  place  in  the  Sistine  Chapel,  that  being 
by  far  the  largest  sanctuary  in  the  Vatican.  Paris 
de  Grassis,  who  was  in  charge  on  such  occasions, 
was  continually  forced  to  invent  new  decorations  for 
celebrating  mass  at  the  death  of  a  cardinal,  or  for 
a  reception  of  deputations  and  foreign  envoys.  It 
occurred  to  him  that  a  set  of  tapestries  to  hang 
below  the  wall  frescoes  on  each  side  of  the  chapel 

220 


IRapbaers  Uapestttes  aar 

would  make  a  more  beautiful  and  more  appropriate 
ornamentation  than  any  he  could  devise.  Up  to 
this  time  Raphael  had  had  no  hand  in  the  adorn- 
ment of  this,  the  principal  chapel  in  the  very  heart 
of  Latin  Christendom.  Possibly  the  knowledge  of 
Bramante's  earlier  desire  to  have  his  young  friend 
there  represented  may  have  influenced  the  Pope  in 
his  choice  of  painter  for  the  work.  At  all  events, 
about  1 5 14,  Raphael  began  the  cartoons,  which  were 
finished  by  15 16.  He  was  paid  one  hundred  ducats 
apiece.  As  fast  as  each  cartoon  was  completed,  it 
was  despatched  from  the  master's  atelier  to  the 
weavers  in  Brussels.  Thus  neither  Vasari  nor  the 
Roman  public  in  general  ever  really  saw  the  orig- 
inal drawings.  Strictly  speaking,  these  cartoons, 
seven  of  which  are  now  in  the  South  Kensington 
Museum  in  London,  are  drawings  rather  than  paint- 
ings. The  colour  is  only  lightly  and  slightly  indi- 
cated. In  spite  of  the  grandeur  given  by  brilliant 
tones  with  the  interwoven  gold  and  silver  threads, 
it  is  the  cartoons  instead  of  the  tapestries  that  rank 
higher  in  the  art  of  the  world.  For  in  not  a  single 
one  of  the  weavings  did  the  Flemish  painters  in 
thread  succeed  in  reproducing  the  delicate  shades  of 
expression  and  subtile  indications  of  type  and  char- 
acter that  are  such  potent  factors  for  beauty  in  all 
the  cartoons.  It  is  estimated  that  the  weaving  took 
about  three  or  four  years.    In  December,  15 19,  seven 


«««  Ubc  art  ot  tbe  IDatican 

of  them  were  put  on  the  chapel  walls,  and  the  whole 
series  was  hung  in  1520.  This  was  an  extraordinary- 
feat,  and  is  evidence  of  some  sharp  pressure  put 
upon  the  Brussels  workmen.  Under  Louis  XIV., 
at  the  Gobelins,  they  required  more  than  ten  years 
to  weave  a  set  of  about  equal  labour,  —  the  History 
of  the  King,  still  to  be  seen  at  the  Garde  Meuble 
National  in  Paris. 

The  tapestries  have  passed  through  many  strange 
vicissitudes.  At  the  death  of  Leo  X.  they  were 
pawned  for  five  thousand  ducats.  During  the  sack 
of  Rome  in  1527,  they  were  treated  to  all  kinds  of 
indignities,  the  Punishment  of  Elymas  still  showing 
where  it  was  cut  in  two  to  sell  more  easily.  Two 
went  as  far  as  Constantinople,  and  all  were  sold  by 
the  soldiers  of  De  Bourbon.  In  1545  the  Vatican 
managed  again  to  get  possession  of  them.  In  1798 
the  French  sold  them  to  a  company  of  dealers,  and 
they  were  exhibited  in  Paris.  Once  more  Pius  VII. 
purchased  them,  and  in  1808  they  were  returned  to 
Rome,  and  ever  since  have  hung  in  the  palace  of 
the  Popes. 

As  has  been  often  said,  Raphael  violated  every 
law  of  tapestry  decoration  in  his  designs  for  these 
magnificent  specimens  of  "arazzi."  But,  as  usual, 
his  genius,  riding  over  every  conventional  restriction, 
succeeded  in  producing  a  series  of  stupendous,  monu- 
mental, historical  compositions.    As  our  American 


IRapbaers  XTapeetrtes  233 

editors  of  Vasari  have  excellently  said,  "  In  spite  of 
sprawling  fingers,  writhing  toes,  and  rolling  eyes, 
and  in  spite,  too,  of  a  lack  of  subtile  characterisation 
which  makes  many  of  these  figures  academic,  their 
movements  are  grand."  Of  the  cartoons,  they  remark 
that  they  "  are,  as  compositions,  almost  perfect. 
Although  the  pantomime  is  exaggerated,  the  story 
is  told  clearly  and  simply  .  .  .  with  a  directness 
and  force  unrivalled  since  Giotto,  with  the  new 
science  of  the  great  epoch,  and  with  a  freedom  from 
mysticism  which  made  them  especially  comprehen- 
sible." 

Vasari  states  that  when  the  tapestries  arrived, 
they  "  awakened  astonishment  in  all  who  beheld 
them."  But  it  was  the  depth  and  richness  of  the 
colouring  and  their  decorative  qualities  more  than 
their  higher  artistic  worth  that  appealed  to  those 
early  observers.  And,  as  Grimm  remarks,  their 
moral  and  spiritual  significance  seems  never  to 
have  been  noted.  To-day,  it  is  quite  impossible 
to  judge  of  them  from  the  sixteenth  century  stand- 
point. Here  and  there  the  gold  threads  gleam  out, 
in  a  few  detached  spots  the  softness  of  the  flesh- 
tones  or  the  richness  of  drapery  and  landscape  still 
faintly  hint  of  what  the  whole  must  have  been  nearly 
four  hundred  years  ago.  But  mostly,  time  has  dealt 
as  heavily  with  these  treasures  of  the  weavers'  loom 
as  with  the  paintings  of  Leonardo.    No  longer  glow- 


224  Zbc  Hrt  ot  tbe  iDattcait 

ingly  rich,  exquisite  in  gradations  of  tone  and  colour, 
they  are  almost  monochromatic  in  their  weak,  dull 
grays.  Only  the  grouping,  harmony  of  arrange- 
ment, balance,  and  general  effects  of  drawing  and 
composition  remain.  In  such  ways  alone  they  must 
be  considered,  and  so  considered  their  inferiority  to 
the  cartoons  is  far  more  apparent  than  it  could  have 
been  in  their  days  of  gorgeous  brilliancy. 

As  stated,  the  ten  pieces  are  known  under  the  title 
of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles.  More  strictly,  they  could 
be  called  scenes  from  the  lives  of  Peter  and  Paul. 
The  first  of  the  series  is  the  Miraculous  Draught  of 
Fishes,  or,  according  to  Grimm,  the  First  Call  to 
Peter.  Two  very  small  boats,  hardly  large  enough 
to  hold  one,  let  alone  the  three  passengers  that  are 
in  each,  are  near  the  shore.  In  the  first,  at  the  bow, 
Christ  is  shown  sitting  in  profile,  with  his  right  hand 
raised  as  if  acknowledging  from  where  comes  his 
power.  In  the  middle  kneels  Peter,  his  hands 
clasped,  adoring  the  Master.  Andrew,  stepping 
down  from  the  stern,  seems  about  to  follow  Peter's 
example.  All  around  are  the  fish,  of  which  indeed 
the  boat  is  full.  In  the  other  craft  are  two  young 
men,  both  tugging  with  might  and  main  to  bring  in 
the  heavy  haul  that  drags  the  net  deep  into  the  sea. 
They  are  half  naked,  and  the  pull  on  their  arms  is 
shown  in  their  rigid  muscles  thrown  out  like  cords. 
The  old  nrni  steering  is  modelled  on  the  lines  of 


IRapbacrs  Uape0ttte6  225 

an  ancient  river  god.  So  far  as  one  can  see  stretch 
the  waters  of  Gennesareth  unbroken  to  the  horizon 
Hne.  At  the  left,  people  are  busy  on  the  shore  near 
the  city  walls,  behind  which  lofty  buildings  tower. 
In  the  foreground,  among  the  grasses,  are  cranes 
eagerly  waiting  for  their  share  of  the  catch. 

Raphael,  of  course,  was  quite  incapable  of  drawing 
such  inadequate  boats  from  the  lack  of  knowledge 
that  they  were  inadequate.  Rather,  he  used  them 
as  the  Greeks  used  symbols,  —  as  mere  suggestions. 
Doubtless  when  the  hanging  came  fresh  from  the 
looms,  the  colour  prevented  their  diminutiveness 
from  appearing  so  strongly.  Now,  when  the  shades 
are  so  faded,  when  the  lights  and  shadows  no  longer 
have  their  balance  of  proportion,  to  modern  eyes 
the  insufficiency  of  these  tiny  boats  sometimes  threat- 
ens to  obliterate  the  real  dignity  and  nobility  of 
Christ,  the  fine  feeling  in  the  expressions  and  pose  of 
the  disciples. 

The  borders  of  the  tapestry  are  very  lovely,  as 
indeed  are  all  of  the  series.  At  the  top  of  this  are 
the  arms  of  the  Medici,  at  the  bottom  Leo  appears 
riding  wlith  his  suite  of  cardinals  at  the  gates  of 
Rome.  On  the  left  is  the  figure  of  a  woman  standing 
behind  an  allegorical  impersonation  of  the  Arno.  On 
the  right,  a  captain,  in  classic  military  dress,  wel- 
comes the  pontiff.  Rome  is  indicated  by  the  Tiber 
lying  at  his  feet,  his  left  elbow  on  a  wolf,  and  a 


226  UDc  Htt  ot  tbe  Dattcan 

cornucopia  in  his  hand.  The  side  borders  are  ara- 
besques, impersonations  of  the  seasons,  festoons,  gro- 
tesques, birds,  and  animals  all  woven  into  one 
harmonious  decorative  design. 

In  the  Charge  to  Peter,  Christ  stands  at  the  left, 
pointing  to  a  flock  of  sheep  behind  him,  while  with 
the  other  hand  he  emphasises  his  words  to  the  kneel- 
ing Peter,  who  holds  the  big  key  in  his  arms.  Peter 
is  in  front  of  the  other  disciples,  thus  connecting 
and  at  the  same  time  separating  Jesus  from  the 
group  that  is  admirable  in  an  arrangement  which 
brings  each  member  dearly  into  view.  The  varying 
attitudes  and  expressions  are  given  with  portrait-like 
fidelity,  the  two  foremost  ones  of  the  number,  An- 
drew and  John,  being  strikingly  beautiful.  The 
intent  seriousness  of  Peter  is  no  less  plainly  shown. 
In  the  Redeemer's  own  figure  is  an  added  spiritual 
^dignity  and  an  ideal  beauty  of  face. 

So  far  as  is  known,  no  cartoon  exists  of  the  third 
of  the  series,  —  the  Stoning  of  St.  Stephen.  Stephen 
kneels  a  little  to  the  left  of  the  centre  in  deacon's 
Hress,  his  arms  outstretched.  He  is  calling  upon 
fGfod,  who,  with  Christ  and  Angels,  appears  before 
his  vision  in  the  skies.  Saul  sits  in  the  right  hand 
corner  of  the  picture,  and  directs  five  or  six  big, 
burly  ruffians.  They  are  bending,  picking  up  stones 
or  already  flinging  them  at  the  martyr.  The  action 
and  grouping  of  these  revilers  are  extraordinarily 


IRapbaers  Uapestviea  227 

spirited,  showing,  too,  some  wonderful  foreshorten- 
ing in  their  positions.  This  last  is  especially  marked 
in  the  man  with  bared  shoulders  stooping  over  in 
the  foreground.  The  landscape,  the  really  lovely 
part  of  the  picture,  reminds  one  of  the  palace- 
crowned  hills  about  Rome. 

The  Flemish  weavers  must  have  found  in  the 
Healing  of  the  Lame  Man  a  subject  more  congenial 
and  natural  for  their  looms.  Here  there  is  no  lack 
of  gorgeous  ornament,  fine  dresses,  florid  architec- 
ture. It  is  a  scene  much  more  suitable  for  reproduc- 
tion in  tapestry  than  any  of  the  others.  Between  the 
twisted  pillars,  said  to  have  been  copied  from  those 
brought  from  Jerusalem  to  Rome,  stand  St.  Peter 
and  St.  John,  intent  upon  their  deeds  of  mercy. 
Peter  is  holding  the  right  hand  of  a  fearfully  de- 
formed beggar,  while  with  his  other  he  exorcises 
'the  evil  spirit.  The  strain  in  Peter's  own  hand  is 
evident,  and  in  the  uplifted  face  of  the  beggar  shines 
his  consciousness  of  the  beginning  of  the  cure.  On 
the  other  side,  looking  down  with  compassion,  is 
John,  and  beyond,  between  two  pillars,  another  crip- 
pled beggar  leans  on  his  staff,  gazing  with  neck  far 
forward,  skepticism  and  hope  struggling  in  his  ugly 
face.  At  the  extreme  sides  of  the  picture,  charming 
young  Roman  mothers  with  their  babies  are  passing 
along,  while  a  sturdy  sprite  of  a  naked  boy  at  one 
end  gives  vivacity  to  the  whole. 


228  Zbc  Brt  of  tbe  IDattcan 

The  Death  of  Ananias,  next  in  the  series,  is  built 
somewhat  upon  the  lines  of  the  School  of  Athens. 
The  apostles  are  upon  a  platform,  Ananias  and  his 
companion  on  the  tesselated  pavement  below.  At 
the  left,  beyond,  a  flight  of  stairs  is  seen,  on  the  right, 
an  open  window  gives  a  glimpse  of  a  peaceful  coun- 
try landscape.  The  rough  wooden  platform  with 
draped  background  suggests  the  hasty  improvised 
church  of  the  early  Christians.  St.  Peter,  the  centre 
of  the  apostles,  stands  with  hand  extended,  his  face 
expressing  sternest  judgment  as  he  calls  down  upon 
the  offending  perjurer  the  punishment  of  Heaven. 
As  if  at  the  command  of  that  pointing  finger, 
Ananias  has  fallen  to  the  ground  in  a  writhing  agony 
that  is  already  turning  to  the  paralysis  of  death.  The 
frightened  spectators  press  forward,  hardly  believing 
the  sight  of  their  eyes.  On  the  platform  next  to 
Peter  is  another  apostle,  pointing  upward,  and  others 
at  right  and  left  show  by  their  faces  their  grief  and 
anger  at  the  unhappy  man's  sin.  All  the  attitudes 
are  vivid  to  an  extreme  degree. 

The  Martyrdom  of  St.  Stephen  and  the  Conver- 
sion of  St.  Paul  are  not  equal  to  the  others,  and  it  is 
reasonably  sure  that  Raphael's  pupils  had  a  large 
share  in  their  production.  The  telescopic  lines  of 
the  composition  of  the  latter  are  particularly  un- 
Raphaelesque. 

Seventh  in  order  is  the  Punishment  of  Elymas. 


Hapbael's  XTapestrtcs  229 

This  so  absolutely  explains  in  line  the  Biblical 
words  it  illustrates,  that,  as  Miintz  observes,  nothing 
describes  it  better  than  the  verse  itself :  "  And  .  .  . 
they  found  a  certain  sorcerer,  a  false  prophet,  a  Jew, 
whose  name  was  Bar- Jesus ;  which  was  with  the  dep- 
uty of  the  country,  Sergius  Paulus,  a  prudent  man; 
who  called  for  Barnabas  and  Saul,  and  desired  to 
hear  the  word  of  God.  But  Elymas  the  sorcerer  (for 
so  is  his  name  by  interpretation)  withstood  them, 
seeking  to  turn  away  the  deputy  from  the  faith. 
Then  Saul  (who  is  also  called  Paul),  filled  with 
the  Holy  Ghost,  set  his  eyes  on  himi,  and  said,  O 
full  of  all  subtilty  and  all  mischief,  thou  child  of 
the  devil,  thou  enemy  of  all  righteousness,  wilt  thou 
not  cease  to  pervert  the  right  ways  of  the  Lord? 
And  now,  behold,  the  hand  of  the  Lord  is  upon  thee, 
and  thou  shalt  be  blind,  not  seeing  the  sun  for  a 
season.  And  immediately  there  fell  on  him  a  mist 
and  a  darkness ;  and  he  went  about  seeking  some  one 
to  lead  him  by  the  hand.  Then  the  deputy,  when  he 
saw  what  was  done,  believed,  being  astounded  at  the 
doctrine  of  the  Lord."  Grimm  says  that  generally 
one  feels,  in  comparing  RaphaeFs  sketches  with  the 
finished  compositions,  a  lack  in  the  latter  of  the 
splendid  breadth  and  robustness  so  strongly  shown 
in  the  original  studies.  Here,  however,  he  finds  this 
same  vigour  of  treatment.  He  says  that  it  seems  as 
if  he  had  "brought  his  models  straight  on  to  the 


230  Zbc  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

cartoon."  Indeed,  he  goes  on  to  note,  "A  look 
of  common  reality  lies  over  the  whole  which  reminds 
us  of  photographs.  The  hand  gestures  are  speaking 
.  .  .;  most  of  all  Elymas,  who  is  trying  to  inter- 
rupt Paul's  discourse,  and  terrified  by  the  darkness 
creeping  over  him,  stretches  out  his  arms  like  huge 
feelers,  which  grope  tremblingly  about  in  the  empty 
air."  As  remarkable  as  any  part  of  the  composition 
is  the  management  of  the  crowd  of  spectators,  where 
are  infinite  variety  and  movement  with  no  lessening 
of  homogeneity. 

Illustrating  the  verses  in  the  fourteenth  chapter 
of  Acts,  where  Paul  heals  the  cripple,  is  the  tapestry 
called  Paul  and  Barnabas  at  Lystra.  The  moment 
described  is  when  the  people  have  become  convinced 
that  the  two  are  the  very  gods  come  to  earth,  in 
consequence  of  which  belief  they  bring  oxen  and  gar- 
lands to  make  sacrifice  to  them.  "  Which  when  the 
apostles,  Barnabas  and  Paul,  heard  of,  they  rent  their 
clothes,  and  ran  in  among  the  people,  crying  out,  and 
saying.  Sirs,  why  do  ye  these  things  ?  "  Here  again 
the  full  scene  is  depicted.  And  no  one,  it  is  to  be 
believed,  but  of  Raphael's  own  genius  could  have 
brought  all  these  many  incidents  and  elements  into 
a  successfully  fused  whole.  He  has  succeeded  beyond 
even  his  own  standard.  In  no  other  one  of  all  his 
marvellous  compositions  has  he  attained  more  per- 
fect expression,  more  abundant  life  and  power,  or 


IRapbaera  TTapestrtea  231 

more  absolute  coherency.  In  the  forum  a  crowd  is 
gathered.  On  one  side  are  the  mere  spectators, 
gazing  with  utmost,  astonished  devotion  at  the  two 
apostles  who  are  descending  the  temple  steps.  Their 
own  faces  show  horror  and  pity,  and  Paul  tears  his 
robe  as  he  turns  away  from  the  scene  in  front,  where, 
led  by  the  sacrificial  priests,  are  the  oxen  and  rams. 
An  executioner  lifts  his  club  high  over  the  head  of 
the  big  ox  held  by  the  kneeling  captors.  By  the 
altar  are  two  entrancing  little  boys,  one  blowing  the 
pipes,  another  bearing  the  censer.  At  the  moment, 
a  young  man,  apparently  seeing  and  interpreting 
the  expression  in  the  apostles'  faces,  springs  forward 
to  arrest  the  intended  sacrifice.  Among  the  crowd, 
the  paralytic,  the  cause  of  all  this  excitement,  has 
flung  away  his  crutches  and  is  throwing  himself 
bodily  toward  his  healer,  his  face  full  of  an  incredible 
joy  that  is  very  nearly  glee.  An  old  man  near  him 
lifts  his  short  garment  and  examines  with  astonish- 
ment the  suddenly  straightened  legs.  Here  is  another 
composition  by  Raphael  where  vigour  and  grace, 
strength  and  charm,  compact  lines  and  masses,  along 
with  tremendous  variety  of  form,  expression,  and 
position,  all  mingle  and  make  that  wonderful  har- 
mony which  was  the  perfection  of  his  art. 

In  the  Preaching  at  Athens,  simple  as  is  the 
idea,  Raphael  has,  with  much  less  action,  given  as 
dramatic  and  lifelike  a  scene  as  in  the  "  Uystra." 


232  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  Dattcan 

Paul  is  telling  the  Corinthians  that  their  altar  to 
the  Unknown  God  is  the  only  altar  at  which  they 
should  worship.  "  And  when  they  heard  of  the 
resurrection  of  the  dead,  some  mocked :  and  others 
said,  We  will  hear  again  of  this  matter.  So  Paul 
departed  from*  among  them.  Howbeit  certain  men 
clave  unto  him,  and  believed ;  among  the  which  was 
Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  and  a  woman  named 
Darnaris,  and  others  with  them."  As  Paul  stands  on 
the  steps  preaching,  he  is  a  simply  lined,  noble  figure. 
The  crowd  before  him  express  well  the  surprise,  the 
skepticism,  the  doubt,  the  contemplation  of  its  differ- 
ent members.  Every  face  tells  its  own  story,  and 
every  figure  helps  to  balance  the  consummate  scheme 
of  the  picture.  To  give  the  scene  its  full  significance, 
Raphael  shows  Damaris  and  Dionysius  in  rapt  ab- 
sorption at  the  end  of  the  steps. 

Paul  in  Prison,  also  called  The  Earthquake,  is  of 
much  the  same  order  as  the  St.  Stephen  and  Conver- 
sion of  St.  Paul.  Owing  to  the  large  part  entrusted 
to  his  pupils,  it  is  a  comparative  failure.  The  tapes- 
try is  injured.  Paul  is  behind  a  grating  similar  to 
that  of  the  "  Deliverance  "  in  the  chamber  of  Helio- 
dorus.  At  the  corner  of  the  foreground  are  two 
men,  the  foremost  of  whom  is  being  forced  upward 
by  the  convulsive  movements  of  the  personified 
Earthquake,  —  a  huge  giant  who  is  lifting  the  earth 
till  he  has  formed  about  him  a  sort  of  vast  cavern. 


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IRapbaerB  Uapesttles  235 

The  borders  of  all  these  tapestries  are  sumptuous 
beyond  telling  in  imagery,  in  dramatic  interest,  in 
decorative  effect.  Many  of  them,  so  fine  are  the 
groupings  and  so  vivid  the  scenes  they  depict,  have 
been  assigned  to  Raphael's  own  hand.  He  was  one 
of  the  first  artists  to  discard  the  inevitable  fruit  and 
flower  borders  for  a  sort  of  running  story.  Some 
of  these  framings  are  in  imitation  relief,  in  mono- 
chrome; some,  painted  in  brightest  tones,  are  alle- 
gories of  the  seasons,  of  the  virtues,  of  life  in  all  sorts 
of  phases,  interspersed  with  geometrical,  floral,  and 
grotesque  designs  where,  as  in  the  loggie,  birds  and 
reptiles,  animals  and  flowers,  are  mixed  in  an  exuber- 
ance that  is  never  beyond  the  limits  of  the  decorative. 
To-day,  when  the  colours  of  the  weavings  are  so 
changed,  it  sometimes  seems  as  if  these  framing 
designs  were  the  most  beautiful  parts  of  all. 

Of  the  rest  of  the  tapestries  in  the  gallery,  nothing 
much  in  the  way  of  praise  can  be  given.  The  won- 
derful success  of  the  Sistine  series  decided  Leo  X. 
to  ask  Raphael  for  another  set,  descriptive  of  the 
Life  and  Death  of  Christ.  The  subjects  were  The 
Nativity,  Adoration  of  the  Magi,  Massacre  of  the 
Innocents  (in  three  pieces).  Descent  into  Hell, 
Resurrection,  "  Noli  Me  Tangere,"  The  Supper  at 
Emmaus,  the  Ascension,  the  Descent  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  All  except  the  Descent  into  Hell  still  exist 
in  the  Vatican.     With  them  is  a  hanging  which 


236  XTbe  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

was  once  behind  the  pontifical  throne  in  the  Sistine. 
So  far  below  the  first  set  are  these,  so  forced  the 
action  of  the  figures,  so  coarse  and  common  the 
drawing,  so  vulgar  and  heavy  the  accessories,  it  is 
only  by  diligent  study  that  here  and  there  a  bit  is 
found  suggesting  the  master  who  is  said  to  have 
designed  them.  They  were  undertaken  in  the  last 
years  of  his  life,  and  it  is  doubtful  if  he  made  a  full 
study  for  any  one.  After  his  death,  his  assistants 
gathered  the  scattered,  separate  heads  and  figures, 
and  built  from  them  the  result  which  is  so  far  below 
the  worst  their  first  projector  could  have  imagined. 
It  was  bad  enough  when  pupils  less  favoured  than 
Giulio  Romano  undertook  so  to  interpret  the  master* 
It  was  much  worse,  as  Miintz  points  out,  when  men 
"  like  Tomaso  Vincidor  da  Bologna,  or  some 
Fleming  who  was  perfectly  strange  to  the  principles 
of  the  Renaissance,  attempted  to  continue  the  work 
of  Raphael." 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE    SCULPTURE    GALLERIES 

The  old  summer-house  of  Imiocent  VIII.  is  now 
the  centre  of  the  sculpture  gallery  of  the  Vatican. 
During  the  pontificate  of  Julius  II.  and  Leo  X., 
their  small  collection  of  antique  marbles,  as  has 
been  said,  was  arranged  by  Bramante  in  the  gardens 
of  the  Belvedere.  Under  Clement  XIV.  and  Pius 
VI.  they  grew  to  such  numbers  that  some  other 
and  better  protected  housing  had  to  be  devised  for 
them.  The  Pio-Clementine  Museum  was  the  result, 
that  followed  by  the  Chiaramonti  and  the  Braccio 
Nuovo,  and  then,  with  Gregory  XVI.  came  the 
Etruscan  and  Egyptian  rooms.  For  many  years 
the  sculptures  of  the  Vatican  were  universally  re- 
garded as  being  the  most  wonderful  and  perfect 
specimens  of  Greek  art  extant.  The  later  explora- 
tions of  Greece  and  the  searching  investigations  of 
modem  critics  have  torn  them  from  their  towering 
pedestal  of  fame.  Most  of  the  very  best  specimens 
have  been  proved  to  be  merely  admirable  copies  of 
celebrated  works,  and  the  majority  of  the  rest  are 

237 


23»  XTbe  Hrt  ot  tbc  Vatican 

not  even  considered  first-rate  replicas.  Such  has 
been  the  rebound  in  opinion  as  to  their  value.  But 
after  all,  these  copies  of  antique  works  of  art  are 
in  a  way  more  valuable  than  the  undoubted  originals 
that  occasionally  reward  the  explorers'  excavations. 
Furtwangler  has  truly  said  that  even  the  most 
mediocre  of  the  marbles  in  our  museums  are  proof 
in  themselves  of  the  value  and  celebrity  of  the  origi- 
nals. The  more  beautiful  and  famed  a  work  the 
more  numerous  would  be  its  duplicates.  There  is 
little  question  that  the  greatest  marbles  of  Greek 
art  are  lost  for  ever.  It  is  only  by  the  replicas,  bad 
copies  as  they  may  be,  that  one  can  learn  the  charm 
and  value  of  the  rarest  of  the  antique  sculptures. 
And  nowhere  are  copies  more  abundant,  or,  on  the 
whole,  more  excellent  than  in  the  enormous  collec- 
tion of  the  Museum  of  the  Vatican. 

Whatever  the  critical  estimate  of  the  actual  value 
of  the  collection  itself,  there  can  be  no  two  opinions 
as  to  its  extent  or  arrangement.  Nowhere  are  gal- 
leries more  splendidly  designed  for  their  purpose  or 
more  artistically  decorated,  or  antiquities  more  intel- 
ligently and  beautifully  arranged,  than  in  the  palace 
of  the  Popes.  Of  the  sixteen  rooms  stretching  from 
each  end  of  the  Braccio  Nuovo,  bounding  all  sides 
of  the  Giardino  della  Pigna,  and  squaring  the  Cor- 
tile  di  Belvedere,  each  is  paved,  walled,  arched,  and 
lighted  with  unusual  taste,  and  with  a  continuity  of 


Ube  Sculpture  Galleries  239 

design  and  purpose  not  often  seen  in  public  museums. 
The  prevailing  colour  of  the  walls  is  an  old  rose, 
a  most  effective  setting  for  the  creams  and  grays  of 
the  statues. 

The  Museo  Pio-Clementino  is  made  up  of  eleven 
different  compartments.  Of  these  the  most  beautiful 
in  construction  and  ornamentation  are  the  Sala  a 
Croce  Greca,  built  by  Simonetti  under  Pius  VI., 
and,  as  its  name  suggests,  in  the  shape  of  a  Greek 
cross,  with  its  floor  paved  with  fine  mosaics,  some  of 
them  found  in  the  Villa  RufiQnella,  near  Frascati; 
the  Sala  della  Biga,  a  circular  hall  with  a  cupola; 
the  Galleria  dd  Candelabri,  a  very  long  corridor 
with  ceiling  paintings  and  a  handsome  modern 
marble  pavement;  here  are  some  lovely  vases  in 
marbles  of  unusual  and  striking  colours;  the  Sala 
Rotunda,  also  erected  by  Simonetti,  and  with  a  fine 
mosaic  flooring  found  in  the  Thermae  at  Otricoli; 
Sala  delle  Muse,  a  magnificent  room,  of  octagon 
form,  domed,  and  ornamented  with  sixteen  columns 
of  Carrara  marble;  Galleria  delle  Statue,  the 
summer-house  proper  of  Innocent  VIIL,  still  with 
traces  in  the  lunettes  of  paintings  by  Pinturicchio; 
Gabinetto  delle  Maschere,  so  called  from  the  ancient 
mosaic  in  the  centre  of  the  floor,  which  was  found 
in  Hadrian's  villa;  the  Cortile  del  Belvedere,  part 
of  the  original  summer-house,  has  an  inner  arcade 
and  corner  cabinets  where  are  some  of  the  chief  gems 


240  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  Datfcan 

of  the  collection;  finally,  the  Museo  Chiaramonti, 
chiefly  remarkable  for  its  great  length.  In  this 
corridor  alone  there  are  fully  three  hundred  marbles. 
Of  all  the  Vatican's  many  hundreds  of  statues,  it 
will,  of  course,  be  possible  to  speak  of  only  a  few. 

Dilettanti,  amateurs,  connoisseurs,  archeologists, 
have  exhausted  themselves  and  their  language  in 
description,  appreciation,  adulation,  and  criticism 
of  the  Apollo  Belvedere.  For  long  it  was  supposed 
to  be  an  original  dating  from  the  fourth  century 
B.  C,  an  example,  therefore,  of  the  greatest  era  in 
Grecian  art.  Now  it  is  pretty  conclusively  proved 
to  be  no  original  at  all,  and  most  probably  a  copy 
of  a  work  of  the  Hellenistic  period.  This  statue, 
according  to  Helbig,  was  not  found  at  Antium,  as 
has  been  generally  claimed,  but  in  an  estate  belong- 
ing to  Cardinal  Giuliano  della  Rovere  near  Grotta 
Ferrata.  It  is  said  that  Giuliano  bought  it  the 
very  day  it  was  discovered.  The  top  of  the  quiver, 
the  left  hand,  the  right  arm  almost  from  the  shoulder, 
and  various  small  parts  of  drapery  and  legs  were 
all  restored  by  Mont  or  soli.  It  is  stated  also  that  he 
has  not  put  the  right  arm  quite  as  far  forward  as 
it  should  be,  and  the  open  hand  he  has  given  it  is 
universally  condemned. 

Poised  so  lightly  that  he  seems  to  be  moving 
through  the  air  rather  than  on  solid  earth,  the  god 
is  shown  with  his  weight  somewhat  thrown  upon 


APOLLO    BELVEDERE 
In  the  Cortile  del  Belvedere 


Ube  Sculpture  Galleries  243 

his  left  fcx)t,  his  right  slightly  behind  and  with  the 
toes  only  touching  the  ground,  as  if  he  were  advanc- 
ing rapidly  but  noiselessly.  The  twist  of  the  figure 
is  marvellous,  slight,  yet  full  of  a  rhythmic  har- 
mony. From  the  waist  he  turns  toward  the  right, 
while  his  head  is  thrown  sharply  to  the  other  side. 
The  left  arm  is  held  far  out  and  is  partly  draped 
by  the  chlamys  which  hangs  from  the  neck  and  over 
the  back  and  left  shoulder,  mostly  covering  the 
quiver  slung  over  his  back.  His  right  arm  is  also 
away  from  the  body,  and  the  restorer  has  placed 
upon  it  a  foolishly  open  forceless  hand.  There 
have  been  reams  written  discussing  the  nature  of 
the  object  he  is  supposed  to  have  carried  in  his  left 
hand,  Furtwangler  says  positively  that  the  one 
time  prevalent  notion  that  it  was  an  aegis  is  wholly 
incorrect.  He,  as  well  as  several  modern  archaeolo- 
gists, claim  that  in  that  hand  he  held  a  bow,  and  in 
the  right  a  bunch  of  laurel  with  knotted  woollen 
bands,  the  traces  of  which  are  found  in  the  bit  of 
laurel  carved  on  the  tree-stump  at  his  side.  He 
was  thus  shown  in  his  double  capacity  of  the  "  far- 
darter  "  and  the  healer.  Whatever  he  was  originally 
meant  to  represent,  there  is  a  subtilty  of  swing  and 
expression  that  makes  the  statue  something  far 
removed  from  a  mere  type.  It  is  a  vivid  presenta- 
tion of  an  intense  personality,  at  a  suddenly  intense 
moment.    One  feels  in  the  superb  poise  a  very  rush 


244  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

of  noiseless  movement  as  if  he  had  sped  away  from 
conceaUng  clouds.  His  face  is  no  less  expressive. 
The  slight  scornful  lift  of  the  proud  lips,  the  brows 
just  hinting  at  a  contraction,  and  the  quivering 
nostrils  all  seem  to  suggest  some  definite,  hasty- 
demand  upon  the  god,  rousing  his  wrath  and  call- 
ing for  his  assistance.  The  calm  forehead,  how- 
ever, is  unruffled.  It  is  as  if  the  scorn  and  indig- 
nation of  the  rest  of  the  face  were  held  in  check  by 
his  consciousness  of  his  infinite  mind.  And  yet, 
in  spite  of  the  boldness,  the  surety,  the  sweep  of 
the  poise,  the  nobility  of  brow,  and  the  godlike  charm 
of  the  whole  creation,  there  are  other  things  besides 
that  prevent  unalloyed  or  deepest  admiration.  The 
overelaborate  hair,  the  careful,  precise,  though  beau- 
tiful, folds  of  the  chlamys,  ill  according  with  the 
swift  onrush  of  the  wearer,  the  almost  too  exquisite 
curve  of  outline,  a  sort  of  dainty  grace  and  an  in- 
dubitable if  slig^ht  theatricalness  about  the  whole 
figure,  all  are  foreign  to  the  grand  simplicity  and 
noble  directness  of  the  greatest  art  creations.  It 
has  been  called  the  '*  prince  of  a  fairy  tale,"  a  not 
inapt  title.  Yet,  granting  all  its  severest  detractors 
have  alleged  against  it,  the  Apollo  remains  what  its 
first  lovers  called  it,  —  a  thing  of  joy  for  ever.  His 
"  noble  limbs  are  moulded  with  the  ease  and  freedom 
which  are  the  result  of  perfect  mastery,  and  the  proud 
and  beautiful  face  from  which  the  Muses  drew  their 


Ube  Sculpture  ©allcrtes  245 

inspiration  gleams  with  expression  as  he  moves  along 
in  graceful  majesty,  bathed  in  the  purple  light  of 
eternal  youth." 

In  its  own  "  Gabinetto "  in  the  Cortile  is  the 
Laocoon,  the  group  famous  not  only  in  art  but 
literature.  The  subject  of  a  wonderful  essay  on  the 
limitations  of  different  arts  by  Lessing,  it  has  been 
discussed  in  all  its  relations  by  Winckelmann, 
Goethe,  Heine,  and  others,  and  is  still  under  con- 
stant examination  among  archaeologists.  It  was 
discovered  in  January,  1506,  near  the  Thermae  of 
Titus,  and  when  Michelangelo  and  San  Gallo  were 
sent  to  inspect  the  wonderful  find  they  declared  it 
was  the  group  described  by  Pliny  as  having  stood  in 
the  palace  of  Titus.  Liibke  is  of  the  opinion  that 
there  is  no  reason  for  the  supposition  fostered  by 
Pliny's  remarks  that  it  was  originally  made  for  the 
palace.  At  least  it  is  proved  by  actual  measurement 
that  the  niche  in  which  it  was  said  to  have  stood  is 
too  small  to  hold  it.  The  right  arm  of  Laocoon  is 
a  restoration  of  the  early  eighteenth  century,  and 
indeed  the  right  arms  of  both  of  the  sons  are  modern, 
and  incorrectly  placed  at  that.  Laocoon  was  a 
priest  of  Apollo,  and  because  he  blasphemed  against 
the  god  two  snakes  were  sent  to  destroy  him  and 
his  two  boys,  as  he  was  about  to  offer  sacrifice  at 
the  altar  to  Neptune.  The  altar  is  behind  the  priest 
in  the  group,  and  the  two  boys  are  on  each  side. 


246  Ubc  Hrt  of  tbe  Vatican 

Making  a  connected  group  of  the  three  otherwise 
detached  figures,  are  the  huge  pythons.  They  have 
wound  their  folds  about  them  in  a  terrible  struggle 
in  which  one  son  is  already  expiring,  while  the 
father  is  in  the  midst  of  the  most  awful  death- 
dealing  agonies.  The  other  son  as  yet  is  unbitten. 
The  folds,  however,  are  about  him,  but  as  he  turns 
to  gaze  horror-struck  at  his  father,  the  spectator 
feels  that  he  at  least  miay  have  a  chance  of  escape. 
It  is  the  only  point  of  perspective,  so  to  speak,  the 
only  outlet,  in  the  whole  composition.  The  uncer- 
tainty as  to  his  fate  is  just  enough  to  give  one 
a  breathing  space  from  the  accumulated  horror  of 
certainty  as  to  the  end  of  all  the  rest.  It  adds 
greatly,  therefore,  to  the  dramatic  intensity  of  the 
group.  The  shape  of  the  composition  is  pyramidal. 
Though  the  father  has  half-sunken  to  the  altar  in 
his  agony,  he  is  still  above  the  two  sons,  both  of 
whom  are  under  size.  This  pyramidal  form  is  in- 
creased by  his  wrongly  restored  right  arm,  now 
thrust  through  the  serpent  coils  up  into  the  air  far 
above  his  head.  It  would  be  more  compact  and 
better  massed  if  the  hand  was  where  it  undoubtedly 
originally  was,  resting  on  or  near  the  head. 

To  Lessing,  the  horrible  convulsions  of  the  three 
victims  meant  a  tremendously  heroic  struggle  with 
destiny.  It  was  the  mental  significance  that  lay 
behind  the  tortured  limbs  and  anguished  face  of 


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^1 

^^^^^.^  ^^^K^..^  "''^^^^^I 

•^  "JJ; "     ^  \ 

y    /..       ^-      -j^  J 

LAOCOON 
In  the  Cortile  del  Belvedere 


^^     OF  THE      ^P 

UNIVIiRSITY 

Of 


Zbc  Sculpture  (Galleries  249 

the  father  that  made  it  seem  to  him  so  wondrous 
a  work.  If  one  could  thus  translate  the  struggle  to 
the  realms  of  real  tragedy  unquestionably  the  gran- 
deur of  the  group  would  be  immeasurably  increased. 
But  to  most  observers  to-day  there  is  little  to  be  seen 
or  felt  but  mere  physical  agony.  This  is  carried 
to  its  extreme  in  a  marvellously  effective  manner. 
Of  all  the  creations  of  plastic  art  no  face,  it  is  safe 
to  say,  has  ever  succeeded  in  producing  such  an 
intensity  of  suffering  as  that  of  the  Laocoon.  Homer 
can  go  no  further.  Whether  the  representation  of 
such  a  state  is  a  proper  subject  for  the  plastic  arts 
is  another  question.  During  the  eighteenth  and 
early  part  of  the  nineteenth  century  the  Laocoon  was 
the  subject  of  the  wildest  sort  of  praise.  Modern 
criticism  has  to  a  certain  extent  robbed  it  of  the 
supremacy  then  undisputed.  Besides  the  question  as 
to  its  actual  intrinsic  artistic  value,  there  has  been  and 
even  still  is  no  less  amount  of  conjecture  as  to  the 
date  of  its  execution.  It  seems  to  be  generally  con- 
ceded that  it  is  an  original,  the  only  point  of  doubt 
being  whether  it  was  a  work  of  Rhodes  of  a  later 
date  than  the  Pergamum  frieze,  or  whether  the 
opinions  of  earlier  archaeologists,  who  assign  it  to 
a  period  at  least  no  later  than  the  early  part  of  the 
second  century  B.C.,  can  be  sustained.  Furtwangler 
and  others  of  equal  prominence  place  it  later.  It  is 
claimed  that  its  similarity,  and  at  the  same  time  its 


2SO  Ube  art  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

inferiority,  to  parts  of  this  same  Pergamum  frieze 
prove  that  its  construction  came  at  a  later  and  less 
artistic  date. 

The  Torso,  the  world-famous  Torso  of  the  Belve- 
dere, has  been  subjected  to  equally  scathing  criti- 
cism. Even  the  old  story  of  its  discovery  and  placing 
in  the  Belvedere  by  Julius  II.  has  been  questioned, 
till  now  it  is  generally  conceded  that  it  was  in  the 
Colonna  family  down  to  the  time  of  Clement  VII., 
and  by  him  was  put  among  the  Vatican  collections. 
There  is  one  indignity  the  Torso  has  escaped.  It 
has  never  been  defamed  by  the  restorer's  hand.  In 
all  its  maimed  glory,  just  as  it  was  dug  from  the 
crumbling  ruins,  it  rests  to-day  on  its  revolving 
pedestal  in  the  Museo  Pio-Clementino.  It  is  indeed 
merely  a  torso,  —  no  head,  no  neck,  no  arms,  part 
of  the  left  shoulder  gone,  the  right  leg  broken  off  at 
the  knee  and  the  left  but  slightly  below  it,  —  no 
wonder  the  vandal  restorer  felt  the  task  beyond  even 
his  powers.  We  may  congratulate  ourselves  that 
there  was  so  little  undestroyed.  Given  a  leg  and 
arm  or  two  more,  and  some  one  would  have  tried 
to  match  them.  It  is  supposed  to  represent  Hercules, 
partly  from  the  lion  skin  that  is  spread  upon  the  rock 
on  which  the  god  is  sitting.  He  is  bent  sidewise  to 
the  right,  and  forward,  and  then  is  twisted  to  the 
left,  giving  chance  for  a  fine  play  of  muscles.  The 
artist*s  name  carved  is  Apollonios,  son  of  Nestor. 


XTbe  Sculpture  Galleries  251 

The  fact  that  names  of  sculptors  were  not  usual  in 
the  works  of  early  artists  is  one  reason  why  the  first 
century  b.  c.  is  ascribed  as  the  date  of  this  fragment. 
It  is  thought  that  Apollonios  may  have  been  the 
same  sculptor  who  made  the  celebrated  chrysele- 
phantine statue  of  Jupiter  for  the  new  Capitoline 
temple  consecrated  in  69  b.  c.  All  sorts  of  ideas 
have  been  advanced  as  to  what  the  whole  statue  must 
have  been.  One  theory  is  that  the  god  was  sitting 
playing  a  large  cithara  supported  by  the  left  thigh, 
while  he  was  singing  over  the  success  of  his  labours. 
Again  it  has  been  ventured  that  he  was  only  one  of  a 
group.  Whatever  he  was,  that  which  is  left  of  him 
has  been  the  admiration  and  the  despair  of  artists 
from  the  time  of  Michelangelo  to  Gerome.  The 
great  Italian  said  that  all  the  excellencies  of 
antique  sculpture  were  in  it  alone,  and  he  called 
himself  its  humble  pupil,  claiming  that  to  it  he 
owed  all  his  power  for  representing  the  human  form. 
And  when  he  was  an  old  man  he  used  to  run  his 
trembling  fingers  lovingly  over  its  outlines.  Com- 
pared with  the  giants  of  the  Pergamum  frieze,  mod- 
ern criticism  says  that  it  has  not  their  fresh  freedom 
of  muscles  or  their  exquisite  rendering  of  skin  and 
veins.  Indeed,  even  Winckelmann,  who  rhapsodised 
over  the  extraordinary  strength  and  beauty  of  the 
torso,  was  impressed  with  the  strange  absence  of 
vein  indications.    To  his  mind,  they  were  left  out  to 


252  XTbe  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

help  to  make  clear  the  superhuman  nature  of  the 
god!  Antiquaries  agreeing  or  no,  Michelangelo's 
opinion  of  the  rare  beauty  and  power  of  this  broken 
god,  will  for  most  seem  the  true  appreciation.  Mas- 
sive, strong,  full  of  grace,  energy,  and  elasticity, 
there  are  few  statues  that  better  deserve  the  admira- 
tion of  all  times.  The  mere  workmanship  shows  the 
sculptor  to  have  been  past  master  of  his  craft.  The 
softened  tooling  has  left  no  marks,  the  surface  of 
the  skin  is  of  velvet  smoothness,  and  through  it  3II 
is  a  sensitive  delicacy  that  makes  the  more  tremenr 
dous  the  weighty  strength  that  lies  behind  the  big 
muscles. 

Perhaps  the  Mercury,  once  wrongly  called  the 
Antinous  of  the  Belvedere,  has  of  all  the  noted 
works  of  the  Vatican  suffered  the  least  under  the 
fire  of  modern  research.  To  be  sure,  since  the  dis- 
covery of  the  Olympus  Hermes,  it  is  usually  regarded 
as  being  a  copy,  rather  than  an  original.  But,  at 
least,  if  it  is  a  copy,  then  the  original,  one  is  sure, 
must  either  have  been  of  a  transcendent  beauty  way 
beyond,  the  god  of  Praxiteles,  or  else  the  copy  is, 
to  all  intents  and  purposes,  as  satisfactory  as  the 
undoubted  original  would  be.  For  it  is  only  when 
direct  comparison  is  made  between  this  and  the  one 
on  Olympus  that  any  slightest  lack  is  felt.  It  was 
found  in  1543,  in  a  garden  near  the  castle  of  St. 
Angelo,  and  Paul  III.  put  it  into  the  Belvedere 


HEAD    OF    MERCURY 
In  the  Cortile  del  Belvedere 


Ubc  Sculpture  Gallerfes  255 

garden.  The  legs  were  broken  in  two  places  when 
it  was  discovered,  and  the  joining  wtas  incorrectly 
done,  so  that  the  ankle  appears  deformed. 

The  statue  stands  in  the  well-known  Praxitelean 
attitude,  the  whole  weight  resting  easily  upon  the 
right  foot,  the  other  leg  bent  slightly  behind  it,  only 
the  toes  resting  upon  the  ground.  The  right  arm, 
which  appears  to  have  been  more  or  less  advanced 
from  the  shoulder,  is  gone,  and  the  left  wrist  and 
hand  are  also  wanting.  One  end  of  the  chlamys  is 
thrown  over  the  left  chest,  and  then  it  drops  down 
the  back,  to  be  caught  up  and  over  the  left  forearm. 
The  head  is  bent  forward  and  slightly  to  one  side, 
with  the  quiet,  distantly  pensive  expression  also 
clearly  associated  with  Praxiteles.  It  has  been  gen- 
erally considered  that  this  must  be  a  copy  of  a 
statue  by  that  sculptor,  though  certain  critics  have 
ascribed  it  to  a  slightly  later  period.  The  original 
was  probably  of  bronze.  The  large  free  modelling, 
the  beautiful  planes  of  the  chest  and  shoulders,  the 
soft,  yet  never  weak,  masses  of  muscle,  the  grace 
and  ease  of  the  position,  the  proportion  of  the  parts 
to  each  other,  the  overhuman  individuality  of  the 
whole,  mark  this  as  one  of  the  chief  treasures  of 
the  Vatican.  Possibly  the  head  is  a  trifle  small,  and 
the  expression  of  not  quite  the  majestic  sweetness 
and  concentration  of  divine  power  felt  in  the  Olym- 
pian statue;    but  it  is  a  rarely  lovely,  thoughtful. 


256  Ube  Hrt  of  tbe  IDattcan 

charming  head  none  the  less.  Perhaps  the  two  most 
wonderful  things  about  it  are  the  subtile,  beautiful 
swing  of  its  poise  and  the  intense  feeling  of  flesh 
in  its  marble  planes.  Almost  one  can  see  the  pulsing 
veins  beneath,  almost  one  is  sure  it  would  yield  to 
the  pressure  of  the  finger-tips.  Only,  one  thinks, 
has  Michelangelo  in  his  David  succeeded  in  achieving 
such  a  semblance  of  living  flesh.  The  gradations  in 
its  modelling  are  as  subtile  as  Titian  produced  with 
his  brush.  To  quote  a  well-known  author,  "It  is 
an  exquisite  image  of  blooming  youth.  For  soft 
and  delicate  beauty,  —  beauty  which,  like  that  of  the 
vernal  rose,  the  sunset  cloud,  and  the  breaking  wave, 
is  suggestive  of  brief  continuance  and  early  decay,  — 
this  statue  has  no  superior,  hardly  an  equal.  .  .  . 
The  softness  of  the  limbs  just  stops  short  of  languid 
effeminacy.  It  is  beauty,  not  like  that  of  the  Apollo, 
in  action,  but  in  repose,  filled  to  the  brim  with  sweet 
sensations;  neither  restless  from  desire  nor  cloyed 
with  enjoyment." 

Very  similar  in  pose  is  the  Meleager  of  the  Belve- 
dere. In  spite  of  this  resentblance  in  attitude,  the 
difference  in  conception  of  character  and  impression 
of  the  whole  figure  is  remarkable.  Standing  like 
the  Mercury,  with  all  his  weight  on  the  right  leg,  the 
other  slightly  bent  and  resting  somewhat  behind 
the  left  foot,  just  as  in  the  Hermes,  the  line  from 
the  hips  down  only  differs  in  the  somewhat  more 


Ubc  Sculpture  (Balleties  257 

extreme  angle  of  the  latter.  The  right  hip  of 
M'eleager  is  not  thrown  out  quite  so  strongly.  The 
chlamys,  which  is  probably  a  Roman  addition,  is  but- 
toned on  his  right  shoulder  and  slightly  covers  his 
chest  before  it  slips  down  the  back,  and  then,  as 
in  the  other,  is  wound  once  over  the  left  arm.  But 
here  is  one  of  the  noticeable  points  of  difference. 
There  are  no  lazy,  quiet  folds  here,  expressing  in 
every  line  the  pensive  attitude  of  the  Mercury.  The 
ends  of  the  chlamys  are  flowing  straight  out,  as  if 
a  breeze  had  caught  and  held  them.  And  undoubt- 
edly it  was  a  breeze.  But  it  was  made  by  the  hero 
himself.  One  can  fairly  see  the  whirl  he  must  have 
given  the  drapery  as  he  flung  it  impatiently  about 
him  and  rushed  along.  In  his  right  arm,  which  is 
bent  as  Praxiteles  often  bent  it,  and  resting  on  his 
right  hip  behind  him,  there  is,  however,  the  feeling 
of  energy  and  action,  very  unlike  the  nonchalant 
ease  of  Praxiteles.  The  head,  instead  of  being  bent 
thoughtfully  downward,  is  turned  sharply  to  the 
left,  his  eyes  are  gazing  piercingly  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. The  beautiful  half-open  lips  with  their  scornful 
curves,  the  slightly  inflated  nostrils,  all  give  a  life,  an 
outward  expression  at  variance  with  the  type  as  we 
know  it,  of  Praxiteles.  The  modelling  of  the  forms 
is  somewhat  different  also.  There  is  less  of  softness 
and  grace,  a  hint  of  stronger  lines  and  more  decided 
angles  and  planes.     Altogether  it  seems  probable, 


2s8  Ubc  Hrt  of  tbe  IDattcan 

according  to  modern  criticism,  to  assign  the  original 
of  this  to  Scopas.  It  was  found,  on  the  authority  of 
Aldroandi,  near  the  Porta  Portese  on  the  Janiculus. 
Beside  the  statue,  on  his  right,  is  a  badly  sculptured 
dog  looking  up  to  him,  and  on  his  left  is  a  boar's 
head.  This  last  indication,  evidently,  of  the  fight 
in  which  Meleager  came  off  victor  —  to  his  own 
future  harm.  It  is  supposed  that  the  boar's  head  is 
of  Graeco-Roman  manufacture.  The  elaboration  of 
it,  when  it  is  such  a  mere  accessory,  is  very  unlike 
Grecian  art.  The  statue  is  in  perfect  condition,  ex- 
cept for  its  left  hand,  and  it  is  said  that  Michelangelo 
did  not  dare  restore  that. 

The  Apoxyomenos  in  the  Braccio  Nuovo  was 
found  in  April,  1849,  in  the  ruins  of  a  private  house 
in  the  Vicolo  ddle  Palme  in  Trastevere.  The 
restorations  are  all  of  a  minor  order.  Tenerani 
added  the  fingers  of  the  right  hand,  the  die,  the 
tip  of  the  left  thumb,  parts  of  the  strigil,  and  all 
the  toes. 

After  exercising  at  the  Palaestra,  the  Greeks  used 
a  metal  scraper  (the  strigil)  to  remove  the  sand 
which  had  accumulated  on  their  oil-rubbed  bodies. 
This  statue  shows  a  youth  in  the  act  of  cleaning  the 
lower  side  of  his  right  arm,  which  is  held  out  for 
the  purpose.  Lysippus,  who  is  supposed  to  be  the 
sculptor  of  the  bronze  original,  was  a  contemporary 
of  Scopas  and  Praxiteles,  and  was  as  famous  in  the 


Zhc  Sculpture  (Balleries  259 

Peloponnesus  as  were  they  in  Attica.  Certain  char- 
acteristics for  which  this  master  was  noted  among 
the  ancients  are  strongly  marked  in  this  figure.  Very 
tall  and  slender,  the  proportions  of  the  whole  figure, 
with  the  much  smaller  head,  longer  legs,  slighter 
wrists  and  ankles,  all  show  the  innovations  intro- 
duced by  Lysippus.  They  were  marked  innovations, 
even  when  compared  with  the  Parthenon  figures  or 
the  Doryphoros  of  Polycleitus.  The  mobility  of  this 
Apoxyomenos  is  such  that  every  change  of  each 
movement  of  his  arm  is  almost  visible.  His  weight 
is  still  partly  on  his  right  leg,  and  its  momentary; 
sidewise  stretch  is  wonderfully  indicated.  The  ex- 
pression of  the  face  is  much  more  individual  and  has 
more  intellectuality  than  the  statues  of  an  earlier 
date.  The  play  of  the  muscles  is  faithfully  shown 
and  the  skin  is  admirably  indicated  as  being  a  cover- 
ing for  the  flesh  beneath.  It  is  an  idealistic  treat- 
ment of  a  realistic  subject  and  is  peculiarly  that  of 
the  type  attributed  to  Lysippus.  Like  him,  too,  is 
the  care  bestowed  on  details,  such  as  the  rendering 
of  the  hair  in  separate  locks.  The  face  is  natural- 
istic to  a  degree  that  it  almost  becomes  portraiture. 
Again  what  one  would  expect  from  the  chisel  of  the 
man  who  was  always  chosen  by  Alexander  the  Great 
for  his  numerous  portrait  busts  and  statues. 

There  are  in  the  Sala  della  Biga  two  statues  of 
Discobolus,  the  disk  thrower.     One  represents  the 


26o  XTbe  Hrt  of  tbe  IDattcan 

athlete  in  repose,  the  other  at  the  moment  of  action. 
The  one  in  repose  has  been  variously  ascribed  to 
Naucydes,  a  pupil  of  Polycleitus,  to  Alcamenes,  a 
contemporary  of  Phidias  and  Myron.  Brunn  gives 
it  to  the  latter,  backing  up  his  belief  by  showing  the 
points  of  similarity  between  this  and  better  known 
types  of  Myron. 

The  statue  was  found  by  Gavin  Hamilton  in  1792 
in  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  villa  on  the  Via  Appia, 
and  it  was  acquired  for  the  Vatican  by  Pius  VI.  It 
is  only  slightly  restored  in  minor  parts.  The  athlete 
is  shown  at  the  moment  when  he  has  just  grasped  the 
discus  in  his  left  hand,  which  still  hangs  easily  at  his 
side.  With  his  right  hand  bent  at  the  elbow  and 
forefingers  held  out,  as  if  he  were  measuring  the 
space  to  cover,  he  seems  to  be  studying  the  direction 
and  distance  that  he  must  throw.  The  figure  is 
firmly  but  elastically  poised,  and  there  is  a  well 
executed  intentness  and  preparation  for  movement 
in  the  whole  body.  The  face,  too,  though  not  carried 
to  the  extreme  expressiveness  of  a  late  day,  clearly 
indicates  the  keen  interest  and  speculation  of  the 
moment. 

Myron,  who  is  universally  acknowledged  to  be 
the  author  of  the  bronze  original  from  which  the 
other  Discobolus  must  have  been  copied,  was  cele- 
brated in  antiquity,  both  for  his  statues  of  athletes 
and  for  his  representations  of  animals.    His  was  the 


Ube  Sculpture  Galleries  261 

bronze  cow  about  which  so  many  epigrams  were 
written.  Goethe  summarised  these  bon  mots,  — 
a  few  of  which  were,  that,  so  real  was  she,  "  a  Hon 
sprang  upon  her  to  tear  her  to  pieces ;  the  shepherd 
threw  his  halter  about  her  neck  to  lead  her  to  pasture ; 
some  pelted  her  with  stones ;  others  whistled  to  her ; 
the  farmer  brought  his  plough  to  yoke  her  in  for 
work;  the  gadfly  settled  on  her  hide;  and  even 
Myron  himself  was  at-  a  loss  to  distinguish  her 
from  the  rest  of  his  herd."  It  was  this  same  ability 
to  portray  life,  life,  too,  at  an  intense  moment,  that 
made  his  athletes  so  famous.  Lucian  in  speaking  of 
one  of  these  noted  figures  so  exactly  describes  several 
existing  statues,  that  there  is  no  doubt  they  were 
copies  after  the  bronze  original.  In  the  Vatican 
is  one  of  them,  though  it  is  not  so  good  an  example 
as  one  owned  by  Prince  Lancelotti  of  Rome.  With 
his  whole  weight  upon  his  right  foot,  which  rests 
squarely  upon  the  ground,  the  athlete  has  grasped 
the  discus  with  all  the  strength  of  his  right  arm, 
and  flung  it  up  and  back  as  far  as  it  will  go.  His 
whole  shoulder  and  torso  follow  the  violent  move- 
ment of  the  arm.  This  gives  a  twist  to  the  body 
that  brings  into  play  admirably  worked  muscles, 
and  makes  a  movement  that  at  once  suggests  the 
inevitable  return  in  the  opposite  direction.  His 
head  is  here  improperly  placed.  It  should  follow  the 
motion  pf  the  right  arm.    The  face  itself  is  still 


262  UM  art  ot  tbe  IDatican 

somewhat  of  the  archaic  type,  where  the  most  violent 
movements  of  the  body  left  unaltered  its  perpetual 
smile  of  sweet  intelligence.  That,  too,  is  typical  of 
Myron,  for  even  the  critics  of  his  own  day  objected 
to  his  expressionless  faces.  But  this  seizing  of  a 
passing  moment  at  the  very  height  of  one  action, 
just  before  it  merges  into  the  next,  and  so  spiritedly 
that  at  once  one's  mind  and  eye  leap  to  that 
next  —  in  this  lies  Myron's  great  genius.  As  Liibke 
says,  there  is  "  in  it  the  most  acute  observation  of 
life,  the  most  just  conception  of  bold,  rapid  move- 
ment, and  the  greatest  freedom  in  the  expression  of 
the  action."  It  was  found  by  Count  Fede  in  1791  in 
Hadrian's  Tiburtine  Villa,  and  Pius  VI.  bought  it. 

Of  almost  modern  feeling  and  treatment  is  the 
lovely  crouching  Venus  in  the  Gabinetto  delle 
Maschere.  It  was  discovered  about  1760  in  the 
Tenuta  Salone,  situated  on  the  Via  Praenestina,  and 
got  by  Pius  VI.  from  the  painter  La  Piccola.  The 
entire  back  of  the  head,  the  upper  part  of  the  left 
ear,  and  all  the  hair  except  that  lying  upon  the  neck, 
are  restored.  The  fingers  are  modern,  as  well, 
probably,  as  the  whole  of  the  right  hand  and  wrist. 
Modern,  too,  are  the  front  of  the  right  foot,  two 
toes  on  the  left,  most  of  the  vase,  with  its  waves, 
and  various  fragments  of  the  body.  The  face  also 
has  been  slightly  retouched  by  the  restorer. 

As  the  name  indicates,  the  goddess  is  represented 


CROUCHING    VENUS 
In  the  Gabinetto  delle  Maschere 


Zbc  Sculpture  Galleries  265 

in  a  crouching  position,  as  if  she  were  ju^  under 
the  spray  of  a  shower  bath.  The  attitude  is 
extremely  charming  in  the  way  the  limbs  cross  and 
partly  conceal  each  other,  and  the  modelling  of  the 
whole  body  is  delicate  and  sensitive  to  a  degree. 
According  to  Pliny,  the  temple  of  Jupiter,  within  the 
Portico  of  Octavia  in  Rome,  had  a  marble  statue  by 
D^dalos,  of  Venus  seated  in  the  bath.  It  is  reas- 
oned that  this  and  similar  statues  are  reproductions 
of  this  ancient  one.  Dsedalos  is  3Upposed  to  have 
been  a  Bithynian  of  the  period  of  the  Diadochi. 
This  is  especially  regarded  as  true,  as  it  is  not 
likely  such  a  statue  was  designed  before  the  Cnidian 
Aphrodite.  The  "  accentuation  of  the  sensuous 
element  and  the  realistic  treatment  of  the  nude" 
presuppose  a  period  after  rather  than  before  Alex- 
ander the  Great. 

In  the  Sala  a  Croce  Greca  is  the  Vatican  copy  of 
the  most  famous  Venus  ever  sculptured.  With  the 
exception  of  the  Zeus  of  Phidias,  no  statue  in  the 
ancient  world  received  such  unbounded  praise  as 
did  the  Aphrodite  of  Cnidus.  As  Pliny  tells  the 
story,  Praxiteles  made  two  Venuses,  —  one  clothed, 
the  other  nude.  He  offered  them  for  sale  at  the 
same  time,  and  the  people  of  Cos,  perhaps  for  moral 
and  religious  reasons,  selected  the  one  that  was 
draped.  The  Cnidians  therefore  took  the  other,  and 
to  the  fame  of  the  statue  was  due  all  the  future  pros- 


366  XTbe  Hrt  of  tbe  IDatican 

perity  of  that  place.  In  showing  how  it  was  valued, 
Pliny  goes  on  to  say  that  the  Cnidian  national  debt 
was  very  large,  and  Nicomedes,  King  of  Bithynia, 
offered  to  pay  the  whole  of  it  in  exchange  for  the 
statue.  But  the  Cnidians  preferred  to  remain  in 
debt  rather  than  relinquish  this  work  of  art.  Up  to 
Praxiteles's  time  a  nude  goddess  of  love  had  scarcely 
been  thought  possible.  That  he  succeeded  in  present- 
ing her  undraped,  and  yet  kept  her  the  goddess  to 
be  worshipped,  proved  how  great  a  triumph  he 
achieved.  The  statue  was  of  Parian  marble  and 
stood  in  the  centre  of  a  small  temple  in  a  grove  of 
myrtle  and  other  trees.  Here  the  art  of  the  period 
as  well  as  the  art  of  Praxiteles  reached  its  culmina- 
tion. It  expressed  probably  as  no  other  statue  the 
spirit  of  the  new  Attic  school,  —  and  it  could  have 
been  created  neither  in  the  preceding  nor  following 
period  of  Hellenic  art. 

The  copy  in  the  Vatican  is  not  a  first-class  work, 
though  it  has  very  many  beauties.  The  head,  un- 
fortunately, is  turned  in  the  wrong  direction.  She 
should  be  looking  more  toward  the  left  shoulder, 
with  the  head  slightly  bent  backward.  Owing  to 
certain  moral  scruples  at  that  time  rampant  in  Vat- 
ican authorities,  it  was  deemed  expedient  to  drape 
the  statue.  A  metal  covering  was  therefore  made, 
and  now  hangs  from  below  the  hips.  As  may  be 
easily  imagined,  it  does  not  add  to  the  beauty  of 


Zbc  Sculpture  Gallettes  267 

the  figure.  She  stands,  as  now  represented,  resting 
upon  the  right  foot,  her  left  hand  holding  the  super- 
imposed drapery  in  front,  her  right  arm  dropping 
the  real  drapery  on  to  a  vase  at  her  side.  The  large, 
free  modelling  of  the  shoulders  and  arms,  the  sub- 
tileness  of  the  poise  of  the  torso,  recall  the  hand  of 
the  great  master,  but  there  is  a  trace  of  heaviness 
and  sensuousness  that  can  hardly  be  pure  Praxitel- 
ean.  And  the  face,  though  with  a  calmer  and  less 
abashed  expression  than  some  of  the  other  copies, 
has  certainly  not  the  entrancing  loveliness  imputed 
to  it  by  the  ancients.  Moreover,  unquestionably 
antique  as  it  is,  it  could  not  have  belonged  origi- 
nally to  the  present  body,  for  the  two  are  of  different 
marble  and  differently  executed. 

According  to  the  testimony  of  ancient  documents, 
the  Eros  of  Praxiteles  was  only  less  beautiful  than 
his  Aphrodite.  The  story  goes  that  Phryne  wished 
to  secure  for  herself  the  work  most  esteemed  by  the 
sculptor.  She,  therefore,  had  an  alarm  of  fire 
sounded,  and  the  artist,  thinking  his  studio  was  in 
flames,  exclaimed :  "  If  my  Eros  or  Satyr  is  burned, 
I  am  undone."  So  she  chose  the  Cupid,  and  sent 
it  to  the  temple  in  her  native  town  of  Thespiai, 
where  it  was  worshipped  till  Caligula  stole  it.  Clau- 
dius, however,  returned  it  to  Thespiai,  and  there  it 
stayed  till  Nero  took  it  and  put  it  in  the  Portico 
of  Octavia  in  Rome.    During  the  reign  of  Titus  it 


268  Zbc  Htt  ot  tbe  Datican 

and  the  portico  were  destroyed  by  fire.  Pausanias 
saw  only  a  copy  of  it  at  Thespiai  by  an  Athenian, 
made  to  take  the  place  of  the  great  original.  No 
one  knows  now  whether  any  copy  still  exists,  though 
the  "  genius  of  the  Vatican  "  and  its  many  replicas 
may  hold  faint  traces  of  it.  At  least  it  is  evident 
that  Praxiteles  represented  him  in  the  early  years 
of  youth,  pensive  and  dreamy,  and  persuasive, 
rather  than  as  the  mischievous  child.  It  was  made 
of  Pentelic  marble  and  winged,  and  in  his  lowered 
right  hand  he  held  his  bow,  while  from  his  eyes,  as 
an  epigram  says,  came  shooting  the  arrows  of  love. 
The  one  in  the  Galleria  delle  Statue  was  found  in 
a  group  of  ruins  known  as  Centocelli,  on  Via  Labia- 
cana,  and  acquired  for  the  Vatican  by  Clement  XIV. 
The  point  of  the  nose  and  fragments  of  hair  are 
fortunately  the  only  restorations.  No  attempt  has 
been  made  to  add  legs  to  this  torso  or  even  to  piece 
on  the  arms,  which  are  both  broken  above  the  elbow. 
There  are  holes  in  the  back,  showing  where  wings, 
perhaps  of  gilded  bronze,  were  once  added.  Poorly 
executed  as  this  is,  in  comparison  with  what  is  known 
of  the  work  of  Praxiteles,  it  has  a  grace  and  sweet- 
ness, a  dreamy  tenderness  of  expression,  and  a  soft 
suppleness  of  modelling  that  make  it  a  very  lovely 
fragment. 

Another  and  less  doubtful  copy  of  a  statue  by 
Praxiteles  is  the  Resting  Faun  or  Satyr  in  Bracdo 


Ubc  Sculpture  CallericB  269 

Nuovo.  It  is  the  exactness  of  description  of  this 
work  that  has  come  down  to  us,  rather  than  its 
own  excellencies,  that  makes  this  certain.  In  itself 
it  is  not  a  particularly  good  work  and  shows  few 
touches  that  distinguish  the  labours  of  one  who 
grasps  both  technically  and  mentally  the  whole  idea 
of  the  work  before  him.  Praxiteles  conceived  this 
quiet,  restful  figure,  probably,  in  his  intermediate 
period.  It  does  not  show  all  the  freedom  from  tradi- 
tion found  in  the  Hermes  of  Olympia,  but  it  is  at 
least  a  new  type.  The  rollicking,  sensual  nature  of 
the  satyr  is  the  phase  the  sculptors  before  him  always 
presented.  Here  he  is  almost  like  a  young  Apollo. 
There  is,  to  be  sure,  a  delicate  smile  on  the  lips  that 
hints  of  untold  mischief  behind,  and  in  the  languor- 
ous eye  is  something  of  a  voluptuous  glance.  But  as 
a  whole  the  graceful  figure  has  little  resemblance  to 
the  accepted  faun  type.  He  stands  mostly  upon  his 
left  foot,  somewhat  assisted  by  his  right  arm,  which 
leans  at  the  elbow  upon  the  tree-stump  beside  him. 
His  right  leg  is  bent,  the  toes  pressed  directly  behind 
the  heel  of  the  other  foot.  Over  his  right  shoulder 
and  crossing  his  back  and  chest  is  a  tiger  skin  which 
his  left  hand,  resting  on  his  hip,  pushes  to  one  side. 
Grace  and  charm  and  lazy  enjoyment  are  the  chief 
characteristics  of  this  statue.  The  original  undoubt- 
edly gave  him  a  flute  in  his  right  hand,  and  one 
could  imagine  that  the  dreamy,  amused  expression 


270  Ubc  art  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

of  his  face  came  from  his  trying  to  catch  the  last 
notes  of  the  sweet  strain.  In  the  Vatican  copy,  for 
no  apparent  reason,  instead  of  the  flute  he  holds  a 
pedum.  The  nose,  right  forearm,  and  pedum.,  two 
fingers  on  the  left  hand,  various  parts  of  the  panther 
skin,  the  left  foot,  a  great  toe  of  right  foot,  and 
the  upper  part  of  the  stem  are  restorations. 

There  is  another  satyr  in  rosso  antico  (red 
marble)  in  the  Gabinetto  delle  Maschere,  which  is 
very  unlike  the  one  by  Praxiteles.  It  was  found  by 
Count  Fede  in  the  Tiburtine  Villa  of  Hadrian,  and 
obtained  for  the  Vatican  by  Pius  VI.  The  glass- 
paste  eyes,  probably  entire  right  arm,  and  various 
other  less  important  parts  are  restored.  The  bestial 
element  is  here  the  most  noticeable  trait.  Standing 
with  his  left  foot  slightly  advanced,  his  head  is  lifted 
as  he  gazes  up  to  the  bunch  of  grapes  held  high  in 
his  right  hand.  The  greedy  light  in  the  glass  eyes 
is  well  represented,  and  the  colour  of  the  marble 
suggests  vividly  the  sunburned  skin  of  this  forest 
denizen.  The  whole  appearance  of  the  figure,  espe- 
cially perhaps  the  goat-like  appendages  on  the  throat, 
places  it  in  the  Hellenistic  period  of  art.  There  are 
other  indications,  however,  that  relegate  the  work 
to  the  Grseco-Roman  days. 

Far  different  from  the  Apollo  Belvedere  is  the 
slighter,  more  youthful  figure  of  the  god  in  the  Gal- 
leria  ddle  Statue  called  the  Apollo  Sauroctonos  — 


Ubc  Sculpture  Galleries  271 

a  term  given  it  by  Pliny,  and  meaning  the  Lizard 
Slayer.  Critics  agree  in  assigning  the  original  to 
Praxiteles,  and  Furtwangler  places  it  at  a  date  some- 
wlhat  earlier  than  the  Hermes  of  Olympia.  It  is 
at  least  very  unlike  that  miajestic  work  in  either  form 
or  expression.  The  slight,  delicate  build  suggests 
rather  the  satyr  style  than  that  of  the  athlete.  He 
rests  on  the  right  leg  and  leans  slightly  forward, 
with  the  left  leg  bent  sharply  at  knee,  the  toes  of  foot 
directly  at  back  of  the  heel  of  the  other  foot.  With 
his  outstretched  left  hand  he  steadies  himself  by 
the  tree-stump  beside  him,  while  with  his  right  he 
is  about  to  strike  the  lizard  crawling  on  the  tree. 
The  ancients  gave  great  praise  to  the  statue,  extolling 
first  of  all  the  unusual  and  graceful  attitude.  And 
even  in  this  copy  the  body,  so  lightly  is  it  poised, 
could  surely  swing  straight  around  the  tree.  The 
head  is  of  the  Venus  type,  with  gently  broadening 
forehead,  hair  nearly  identical  with  the  Cnidos 
goddess  of  love.  Here,  to  be  sure,  there  is  little 
of  the  ideal  beauty  ascribed  to  the  face,  but  the 
attitude,  as  has  been  said,  must  be  nearer  the  original. 
It  is  full  of  a  soft,  sweeping  grace,  with  the  broadly 
and  tenderly  modelled  forms  that  are  not  without 
traces  of  the  severer  simplicity  of  the  Phidian  days. 
The  contrast  in  the  muscles  of  the  left  side,  a  little 
strained  by  the  sharp  uplifting  of  the  left  arm,  and 
the  more  compressed  ones  of  the  right,  gives  charm 


272  Ubc  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

to  the  pose  and  a  symmetrical  balance.  It  was  found 
in  1777  in  the  Villa  M'agnani  on  the  Palatine.  A 
large  part  of  the  top  of  the  head,  entire  left  side  of 
face,  including  eye,  nose,  mouth,  and  chin,  the  right 
fprearm,  three  fingers  of  the  left  hand,  the  right  leg 
from  the  middle  of  the  thigh,  and  the  left  leg  from 
knee  downwards,  part  of  the  tree-trunk,  with  the 
upper  p^rt  of  the  lizard  and  the  plinth,  all  are 
restorations. 

Among  the  earliest  antique  statues  found  and 
placed  in  the  Belvedere  was  the  Sleeping  Ariadne, 
now  in  the  Galleria  delle  Statue.  Even  in  the  pontifi- 
cate of  Julius  II.,  she  already  adorned  a  fountain  in 
the  Vatican  garden.  For  a  long  time  she  was  called 
Cleopatra,  probably  because  of  a  bracelet  in  the  form 
of  a  little  serpent  which  is  on  the  upper  part  of  the 
left  arm.  The  nose  and  lips  are  restored,  as  are 
also  the  right  hand,  the  third  and  fourth  fingers  of 
left  hand,  the  rock  on  which  she  reclines,  the  end  of 
her  robe  which  hangs  down  over  the  rocks  below 
the  left  elbow,  and  the  horizontial  section  of  this 
garment  between  the  rocky  projection  and  the  verti- 
cal fold  hanging  from  her  thigh. 

Stretched  out  upon  the  boulder,  she  is  supposed  to 
be  sunk  in  the  sleep  in  which  Theseus  left  her,  just 
before,  presumably,  Dionysius  found  her.  It  has 
been  conjectured  that  the  original,  for  this,  too, 
is  unquestionably  a  copy,  was  taken  from  a  painting, 


Ube  Sculpture  Galleries  27s 

perhaps  the  one  Pausanias  describes  as  being  in  the 
Temple  of  Dionysius  at  Athens.  The  faults  in  the 
drapery,  with  the  slight  indistinctness  of  parts,  have 
been  laid  to  the  copyist.  But  perhaps  these  are  the 
mistakes  of  the  painter  rather  than  the  sculptor.  The 
attitude  is  dignified  and  the  forms  noble.  The  posi- 
tion of  the  head,  bent  upon  its  left  arm,  may  slightly 
recall  the  Medicean  statue  of  Michelangelo.  There 
is,  with  the  other  arm  also  throwm  over  the  head, 
a  certain  complexity  not  usual  in  the  best  art 
periods  of  Greece.  It  is  more  like  the  floridity 
of  Roman  art.  The  two  sides  of  the  face,  also, 
as  Winckelmann  pointed  out,  are  not  even,  and  one 
feels  pretty  sure  that  the  restorer  did  not  accom- 
plish all  he  might  with  the  mouth.  The  tumbled 
drapery  has  suggested  to  many  that  it  is  indicative 
of  the  unhappy,  uneasy  dreams  of  the  deserted 
Ariadne. 

Very  much  more  beautiful  is  the  drapery  of  a 
headless,  neckless,  and  armless  girl  in  the  Museo 
Chiaramonti.  Indeed,  this  so-called  Daughter  of 
Niobe  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  draped  statues 
in  Rome  or  anywhere  else.  It  was  found  near  Tivoli, 
and  was  formerly  in  the  garden  of  the  Quirinal.  It 
is  unspoiled  by  the  restorer,  and  so  perfect  is  it  in 
all  it  suggests,  that  the  rdssing  forms  are  scarcely 
needed.  Nothing,  one  feels,  could  add  to  the  charm 
of  the  motion,  or  to  the  expressiveness  of  the  figure 


276  XTbe  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

as  it  flies  over  the  ground.  She  is,  according  to 
Furtwangler,  not  so  much  a  copy  as  she  is  an 
Hellenistic  adaptation  of  an  earlier  statue  from  the 
famous  group.  Every  fold  of  the  exquisite  drapery 
expresses  the  fleeing  rush  of  the  frightened  girl. 
The  chiton,  that  covers  the  figure  without  hiding  the 
shape  beneath,  clings  closely  over  the  legs,  emphasis- 
ing with  every  line  the  pressure  of  the  wind  against 
it.  The  garment  above,  with  its  wider,  freer,  looser 
folds,  tells  even  more  unerringly  of  the  impetuous 
dash  of  the  wearer. 

There  are  several  statues  of  Amazons  in  the 
Vatican,  all  of  them  far  removed  in  artistic  value 
from  what  has  been  written  concerning  the  ancient 
originals.  The  story  goes  that  thi-ee  artists,  Phid- 
ias, Polycleitus,  and  Kresilas,  in  a  certain  com- 
petition, all  made  statues  of  Amazons.  In  spite 
of  the  great  fame  of  Phidias,  it  was  Polycleitus  who 
won,  and  it  was  his  Amazon  that  received  the  great- 
est admiration  of  after  generations.  It  is  generally 
supposed  that  both  the  Polycleitan  and  Phidian 
types  are  represented  in  the  Vatican,  though  so 
badly  that  any  just  estimate  of  the  originals  is 
about  impossible.  The  Mattei  Amazon  in  the  Gal- 
leria  delle  Statue  is  the  one  usually  assigned  to 
Phidias.  The  weight  of  the  body  is  mostly  on 
the  right  leg,  the  left  bent,  her  left  arm  hanging 
down,  and  her  right  lifted  over  her  head.    A  short 


Zbc  Sculpture  ©allertes  279 

tunic  reaches  not  quite  to  her  knees,  leaving  her 
breast  uncovered.  Purchased  by  Clement  XIV.,  it 
has  been  largely  restored.  The  neck,  both  arms, 
top  half  of  quiver,  right  leg  from  knee  to  ankle, 
upper  half  of  tree-trunk  with  shield  and  axe  upon 
it,  and  crest  of  helmet  are  all  modern.  The  head, 
which  is  united  to  the  body  by  a  modern  throat,  is 
antique,  but  belongs  to  another  statue.  No  replica 
of  this  type  has  retained  its  head.  It  is  softer  and 
slenderer  than  the  Polycleitan  type,  but  ought  not, 
authorities  seem  to  urge,  to  be  placed  later  than 
the  close  of  the  fifth  century  b.  c. 

In  the  Braccio  Nuovo  is  the  one  ascribed  to  Poly- 
cleitus.  It  was  found  in  Frascati,  and  was  formerly 
in  the  Camuccini  collection.  The  nose,  both  arms, 
quiver,  right  leg,  left  leg  from  knee  downwards, 
support,  and  plinth  are  modern.  Here  she  is  dis- 
tinctly represented  as  being  wounded.  The  right 
hand  is  held  above  the  head,  and  originally  the 
thumb  at  least  must  have  been  touching  it,  while 
the  left  arm  was  resting  on  a  plinth.  There  is  an 
expression  of  suffering  upon  the  face  explained  by 
the  wound  near  her  right  breast,  although  the  face 
is  after  the  conventional  and  earlier  method.  The 
breadth  in  the  forehead  and  cheek-bones,  with  the 
narrowness  in  cheek  and  chin,  the  projecting  eyelids 
and  finely  cut  lips,  denoting  its  bronze  original,  all 


28o  ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  Dattcan 

mark  it  as  characteristic  of  the  work  of  Polycleitus, 
who  still  adhered  to  the  strict  and  impassive  style. 

One  of  the  best  known  statues  of  Leochares, 
generally  considered  to  have  been  a  pupil  of  Scopas, 
was  his  Rape  of  Ganymede.  There  is  a  late  copy  of 
this  work  in  the  Galleria  dei  Candelabri,  largely 
restored,  but,  with  the  exception  of  the  left  arm, 
probably  correctly.  The  boy,  with  his  shepherd's 
crook,  pipe,  and  dog,  has  evidently  been  restino^  on 
a  wooded  summit,  shown  by  the  shape  of  the  plinth 
and  the  tree  behind  him.  Zeus's  messenger,  the 
eagle,  has  swooped  down  upon  him,  and  with  wings 
outspread  is  carrying  him  up  to  the  height  where 
dwells  the  king  of  the  gods.  The  hound,  left  below, 
howls  after  him  with  upraised  head.  In  Roman 
times  this  subject  was  used  for  monuments  of  chil- 
dren who  died  young,  and  most  likely  this  was  such 
a  funeral  stone.  Of  course  one  cannot  see  here  the 
real  worth  of  Leochares's  work.  But  much  of  the 
idea  and  scheme  of  composition  is  plain,  and  the 
artist  has  succeeded  in  freeing  the  marble  from  its 
heaviness  and  ponderosity  without  violating  the 
laws  of  his  material.  The  flight  upward  is  very 
cleverly  indicated,  and  the  original  had  a  bold  invent- 
iveness that  places  Leochares  high  in  the  artistic 
ranks.  Even  in  this  marble  the  justness  of  Pliny's 
observation  can  be  seen,  that  the  eagle's  claws,  fas- 
tened just  above  the  youth's  waist  and  through  the 


XTbc  Sculpture  (3allerfes  281 

slight  drapery,  were  holding  the  delicate  flesh  as 
reluctantly  as  if  the  bird  himself  feared  to  give  pain. 
The  Zeus  Otricoli,  the  massive  bust  in  the  Ro- 
tunda, is  regarded  by  many  as  a  fair  copy  at  least 
of  the  most  famous  of  all  the  antique  statues,  the 
Jupiter  of  Phidias  that  stood  at  Olympia  till  500 
A.  D.  But  archaeologists  are  now  inclined  to  think 
this  impossible.  The  very  things  that  give  this  bust 
its  grandeur  and  lifelike  attributes  are  what  really 
make  it  evident  that  it  is  not  a  copy  of  the  ancient 
masterpiece.  That  gold  and  ivory  god  must  have 
been  a  much  quieter,  less  complicated  conception,  — 
one  portraying  more  unbrokenly  the  calm  majesty 
of  the  father  of  the  gods.  Here  we  feel  the  play 
of  many  different  emotions.  If  it  expresses  most 
strongly  a  benignant  thought  fulness,  it  shows  equally 
clearly  the  tremendous  energy,  the  impressive  power 
and  wonderful  sense  of  something  mysterious 
and  undefined.  The  deep  shadows  of  the  eyes ;  the 
mighty  brows ;  the  slightly  open  mouth  with  its  sen- 
suous curves  partly  concealed  by  the  heavily  cut 
moustache;  the  eyebrowis,  one  much  more  curved 
than  the  other ;  the  slightly  expanded  nostrils,  — 
all  combine  to  suggest  a  remarkable  play  of  thought 
and  emotion.  The  sculptor  has  amazingly  indicated 
that  all  the  powers  and  passions  and  thoughts  of 
the  universe  could  here  find  expression.  All  this 
play  of  intellectual  life  is  characteristic  of  the  second 


282  Zbc  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

Attic  school  rather  than  that  of  Phidias,  when 
emotion  was  much  more  restrained  in  its  manifesta- 
tion. It  may  possibly  be  taken  from  a  Zeus  by 
Bryaxis  or  Leochares.  The  restorations  include  the 
whole  back  and  top  of  head,  the  left  side  of  forehead, 
tip  of  nose,  ends  of  hair,  and  bust. 

The  statue  of  Apollo  in  the  Gabinetto  delle  Mas- 
chere  has  also  been  called  Adonis.  It  was  found  in 
Via  Labiacana  at  Centocelle,  and  acquired  under 
Pius  VI.  He  is  placed  beside  a  tree-stump,  his  right 
leg  decidedly  advanced,  left  arm  lightly  lifted  from 
his  side  and  extended,  the  right  dropping  down  hold- 
ing the  restorer's  javelin.  His  head  is  bent  and 
turned  to  the  left.  The  nose,  left  side,  and  back  of 
head,  left  arm  up  to  shoulder,  right  arm  below  biceps, 
right  leg,  left  foot,  stem,  and  plinth  are  all  modern. 
It  is  probably  a  copy  of  a  work  by  a  master  of  the 
fourth  century,  b.  c,  who  adhered  more  or  less 
strictly  to  the  older  traditions  of  the  Argive  school. 
The  soft  dreaminess  of  the  face,  and  the  whole 
gentle,  placid  attitude  suggest  the  Praxiteles  Eros. 

Still  another  Apollo  is  in  Sala  delle  Muse,  and 
goes  by  the  name  of  the  Apollo  Citharoedos.  The 
heavily  draped  figure  has  little  of  the  masculine 
about  it.  It  might  be  one  of  the  Muses  rather  than 
Apollo  the  god.  The  left  leg  is  In  advance  of  the 
right,  and  both  feet  are  elaborately  sandalled.  Tlie 
drapery   consists   of  a  girdled   robe   coming   fully 


Zbc  Sculpture  (Galleries  283 

down  to  the  elbows  and  ankles,  and  a  heavy  cloak 
falling  in  voluminous  folds  from  the  shoulder.  The 
garlanded  head  is  tipped  slightly  backward,  listening 
to  the  music  of  the  cithara,  which  he  holds  in  his 
left  hand  and  strikes  with  his  right.  The  grace  and 
swing  of  the  figure  are  charming,  and  would  be  more 
so  except  for  the  superfluous,  overdone  drapery.  It 
has  been  claimed  to  be  a  copy  of  a  work  by  Scopas. 
If  so  the  draperies  were  a  late  Roman  addition. 

Athena  Giustiniani,  sometimes  called  Minerva 
Medica,  was  found  near  the  Church  of  S.  Maria 
Sopra  Minerva,  and  was  purchased  by  Pius  VII. 
The  statue  represents  Athena,  fully  robed,  a  helmet 
on  her  head,  standing  in  a  placid,  reposeful  attitude, 
her  weight  largely  but  not  wholly  thrown  upon  the 
left  leg.  She  holds  a  spear  in  her  left  hand,  while 
her  right  toys  with  the  edge  of  her  robe  at  her  waist. 
By  her  right  side  is  coiled  a  serpent  whose  head 
is  lifted  toward  her.  The  face  of  the  goddess  is 
extremely  quiet,  contemplative,  the  mouth  slightly 
drooping,  expressing  either  dissatisfaction  or  melan- 
choly. It  is  the  intellectual  side  of  the  goddess 
that  is  represented.  Furtwangler  considers  it  a  good 
copy  of  a  statue  by  Euphranor  of  Corinth,  who  lived 
about  375  -  330  B.  c.  But  other  critics  have  judged 
it  to  be  of  an  earlier  date.  It  certainly  suggests  some 
of  the  earlier,  severer  types,  but  the  sophisticated 
treatment  of  the  drapery,  the  freedom  of  the  masses 


284  Ubc  Htt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

of  hair  and  various  details  of  the  dress  and  helmet 
seem  to  indicate  that  Furtwangler  may  be  right  in 
his  conjecture.  At  all  events  it  is  a  charming  if 
slightly  mannered  statue,  with  exquisite  feeling 
about  the  face  and  neck,  and  with  a  dignified,  godlike 
pose  that  vividly  portrays  the  character  of  the  god- 
dess.   It  is  in  the  Braccio  Nuovo. 

The  so-called  Venus  Anadyomene,  in  the  Gabi- 
netto  delle  Maschere,  is  doubtless  a  copy  of  a  later 
edition  of  Praxiteles's  celebrated  Venus,  possibly 
from  the  draped  one  that  went  to  the  city  of  Cos. 
She  stands  somewhat  as  does  the  Venus  of  Milos, 
with  her  head,  however,  bent  down,  while  with  both 
hands  she  arranges  her  unbound  hair.  The  lines 
and  masses  are  sweetly  pleasing,  but  there  is  little 
of  the  majestic  beauty  of  the  goddess  of  love  to  be 
seen  in  this  adaptation. 

A  copy  of  an  adaptation  is  what  the  Hercules 
holding  Telephos,  in  the  Museo  Chiaramonti,  may 
be  called.  The  original  was  presumably  a  group  by 
Praxiteles.  But  most  of  the  simple  beauty  of  Prax- 
iteles has  been  obscured.  Even  the  lion's  skin  is 
more  theatric.  The  attitude,  too,  is  changed,  and 
the  child  is  awkwardly  placed  on  the  left  arm.  The 
Hercules  in  Villa  Albani  is  a  better  copy  of  a  better 
adaptation.  In  the  head  of  the  one  in  the  Chiara- 
monti, however,  the  main  points  of  the  Praxitelean 
Hercules  are  faithfully  preserved.     Even  the  gen- 


VENUS    ANADYOMENE 
In  the  Gabinetto  delle  Maschere 


^        OF  THE      V 


Ube  Sculpture  Galletfes  287 

cral  plan  of  the  forms  corresponds  with  the  Hermes 
of  Olympia.  The  modelHng  of  the  forehead  is  simi- 
lar, though  more  powerful,  and  eyes,  lids,  sockets, 
nose,  and  profile  correspond  exactly.  Only  in  details 
like  the  hair  and  lower  eyelid  occur  the  differences 
of  treatment  always  found  in  a  copyist's  work.  It 
is  undoubtedly  the  most  beautiful  head  of  the  hero 
except  the  beardless  Scopasian  type.  In  it,  too,  one 
finds  resemblance  to  another  noted  type,  —  Zeus  of 
Otricoli.  Not  because  they  are  the  work  of  one 
master,  but  because  of  "  one  development  and  one 
age."  This  head  is  probably  a  copy  of  the  second 
Attic  school. 

In  a  similar  group  is  Silenus  with  the  infant 
Bacchus  in  his  arms.  On  one  of  the  pedestals  in 
the  Braccio  Nuovo,  it  is  not  a  first-class  copy  of 
what,  to  judge  by  the  numerous  replicas,  must  have 
been  a  famous  group  of  antiquity.  Silenus  stands 
with  his  left  leg  sharply  advanced,  leaning  with  his 
left  elbow  on  a  tree-stump  twined  with  grape  leaves. 
His  head  is  bent  protectingly  over  the  little  Bacchus 
whom  he  holds  in  his  arms.  This  baby  was  hardly 
more  than  a  torso  when  found,  but  it  is  perhaps  in 
the  main  correctly  restored.  Silenus's  beautiful 
hands,  with  the  tender  pressure  upon  the  little  body 
so  charmingly  indicated,  are  after  all  much  top 
modern  in  treatment  to  go  with  the  rest  of  the  body 
in  its  simpler  lines.    The  god-guardian  is  a  graceful, 


288  Ube  Hct  ot  tbe  IDatican 

almost  noble  figure.  His  animal  nature  is  scarcely 
hinted  at.  Only  the  pointed  ears  show  connection 
with  the  usual  presentations  of  this  nurse  of  the  god 
of  wine.  Such  soft  idealisation,  as  well  as  the  easy 
quiet  of  his  attitude,  recalls  the  Praxitelean  manner. 
The  more  naturalistic  treatment  of  the  two  bodies, 
however,  indicates  that  probably  it  is  a  copy  of 
a  work  of  days  as  late  as  Lysippus.  Another  variant 
of  this  same  group  is  the  one  where  Silenus  leans 
completely  on  the  tree  at  his  side,  with  his  legs 
crossed. 

There  are  innumerable  statues  of  Dionysius,  one 
of  the  better  known  being  in  the  Museo  Chiaramonti, 
where  he  is  grouped  with  a  satyr.  It  was  found  at 
Frascati,  and  has  been  restored  only  in  minor  parts. 
Attempts  have  been  made  to  connect  this,  too,  with 
the  time  of  Praxiteles.  But  the  slight  archaic  traces 
discernible,  such  as  the  lack  of  fuller  modelling  of 
chest  and  abdomen,  proclaim  it  a  copy  of  an  earlier 
work.  Over  his  grape-crowned  head,  with  its  soft, 
dreamy  expression,  Dionysius  has  flung  his  right 
arm.  His  left,  holding  a  wine-cup,  is  about  the 
satyr's  neck,  who,  with  his  arm  behind  Dionysius, 
seems,  as  he  looks  up  at  him  questioningly,  to  be 
urging  the  god  forward.  There  is  more  of  the  lower 
order  of  being  shown  in  the  satyr  than  in  the  Dio- 
nysius. 

The  colossal  statue  of  Hercules  in  gilded  bronze, 


Ube  Sculpture  ®allerfc5  «89 

in  the  Rotunda,  was  found  in  1864^  in  digging  the 
foundations  for  a  house  in  the  Piazza  Biscione.  It 
was  actually  buried  in  a  kind  of  coffin  of  solid 
masonry  veneered  with  marble,  and  was  purchased 
by  Pius  IV.  for  ten  thousand  dollars.  The  Theatre 
of  Pompey  used  to  be  on  about  this  spot,  and  the 
statue,  it  is  guessed,  was  one  of  the  works  of  art 
used  for  its  adornment.  It  had  apparently  some 
time  fallen  upon  its  head,  and  an  extremely  flat- 
tened appearance  is  the  consequence.  It  represents 
the  young  hero  as  an  immensely  heavy,  powerful 
figure,  with  both  feet  firmly  planted  on  the  ground, 
the  weight  a  little  more  upon  the  right  leg.  His 
right  hand  rests  upon  his  club,  and  the  lion  skin 
covers  the  left  forearm.  In  his  right  hand  he  holds 
the  apples  of  Hesperides.  These  apples,  left  foot, 
and  most  of  the  club  have  been  restored.  The  lost 
piece  of  the  back  of  the  head  has  never  been  replaced. 
This  seems  to  be  an  adaptation  if  not  a  copy  of 
the  Plercules  of  the  Scopas  order.  It  bears  a  good 
deal  of  resemblance  to  the  Hercules  of  the  Lans- 
downe  House,  which  is  generally  regarded  as  a  good 
copy  of  that  work  of  the  Attic  master. 

During  the  pontificate  of  Leo  X.,  the  two  enor- 
mous mythologic  groups  of  the  Nile  and  the  Tiber 
were  found  near  the  Church  of  S.  Maria  Sopra 
Minerva.  They  were  apparently  part  of  the  decora- 
tion of  the  Temple  of  Isis  that  stood  near  here.    The 


29«  Ube  Hrt  of  tbe  IDatican 

Tiber  was  not  returned  by  the  French  after  Napo- 
leon's defeat  and  still  rests  in  the  Louvre.  The  Nile 
is  now?  in  the  Braccio  Nuovo.  Clement  XIV.  had  it 
restored  by  Gaspare  Sibilla.  The  restorations  in- 
clude, besides  unimportant  patchings,  the  fingers  of 
the  god's  right  hand,  and  the  ears  of  corn  within 
them,  the  toes,  nearly  all  the  upper  parts  of  the 
children,  and  sometimes  even  more.  The  work 
probably  dates  from  the  time  of  the  Ptolemies  at 
Alexandria.  The  large  figure  of  the  god  is  half 
reclining,  half  sitting,  his  left  elbow  resting  upon 
a  statue  of  the  sphinx.  His  right  hand  holds  a 
bunch  of  ears  of  corn,  while  his  left  hand  grasps  a 
twining  cornucopia,  which  is  filled  with  grapes,  corn, 
and  fruits,  with  a  small  boy  crowning  the  apex  of 
the  contents.  The  mild,  benevolent  head  of  the  god 
is  turned  toward  this  laughing  baby,  but  his  eyes  are 
not  upon  him.  He  is  rather  gazing  out  and  beyond, 
as  if  viewing  the  immense  territory  his  river  must 
nourish.  All  about  him,  in  extremely  well-chosen 
attitudes  and  groups  are  sixteen  putti,  who,  in 
their  chubbiness  and  interested  actions,  somehow  sug- 
gest Rubens's  little  gods  of  love.  They  are  clamber- 
ing up  his  arms  and  legs,  playing  with  a  crocodile  at 
the  foot  of  the  god  and  with  an  ichneumon  at  his 
side.  Their  number  indicates  the  sixteen  cubits 
which  was  the  maximum  rise  of  the  Nile,  and  was 


XTbe  Sculpture  Oallctics  291 

needed   to  render  the   wlhole  country   sufficiently 
fertile. 

Another  statue  in  which  a  river  god  figures  is  that 
of  the  group  of  the  City  Goddess  Tyche  and  the 
River  God  Orontes  in  the  Galleria  dei  Candelabri. 
It  is  thought  to  be  a  far  copy  of  a  work  by  Euty- 
chides  of  Sikyon,  a  pupil  of  Lysippus.  He  is  said 
to  have  worked  in  marble  as  well  as  bronze  and  also 
to  have  been  a  painter.  There  are  echoes  of  this 
Tyche  on  Antioch  coins  and  in  this  marble  statuette. 
The  goddess  rests  carelessly  on  a  rock,  a  graceful, 
gentle  figure,  very  different  from  the  stately  god- 
desses of  olden  days.  The  river  is  a  vigorous  youth, 
apparently  swimming  out  from  under  her  feet,  bear- 
ing the  goddess  of  the  city  on  his  back  through  the 
waves.  Such  a  composition  can  scarcely  be  beau- 
tiful as  a  whole.  In  spite  of  the  outreaching  arms 
of  the  boy,  the  base  is  not  large  enough  for  the 
massive  figure  above.  The  drapery  is  simple,  with 
large,  free  folds,  but  without  the  exquisite  study 
and  inevitableness  of  the  Phidian  frieze.  There 
is  an  added  significance  to  this  statue,  inasmuch  as 
the  creator  of  the  magnificent  Winged  Victory  in 
the  Louvre  has  been  said  to  be  the  author  of  the 
original  of  this.  Some  slight  indications  seem  to 
connect  the  two,  as  well  as  the  mannerisms  that  place 
them  at  about  the  same  date,  —  the  third  century 
before  Christ. 


292  Utc  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

'-  Among  the.  many  portrait  busts  and  statues  in  the 
Vatican,  perhaps  the  Demosthenes,  the  Menander 
and  Poseidippus,  the  Alkibiades,  and  the  Augustus 
are  the  most  worthy  of  notice. 

The  head  of  the  Demosthenes  statue  is  well  known 
from  many  duplicates,  and  is  supposed  to  be  a  copy  of 
the  bronze  original  by  Polycleitus,  placed  in  Athens 
in  280  B.  c.  This  stood  with  folded  hands,  the  ges- 
ture used  all  through  antiquity  to  express  perplexity 
and  often  affliction.  At  a  late  date  either  this  very 
bronze  or  a  copy  was  seen  in  Constantinople.  The 
statue  in  Rome  has  the  lean  arms,  bared,  bony  chest, 
and  scant  drapery  of  the  Athens  group,  but  it  carries, 
a  roll,  instead  of  having  the  hands  folded.  Michaelis 
thinks  this  attitude  was  chosen  because  the  statue 
was  made  when  Demosthenes  was  admired  more  as 
the  great  author  than  as  the  afflicted  patriot. 

The  two  seated  statues  of  the  comic  poets  Me- 
nander  and  Poseidippus  in  the  Galleria  delle  Statue 
are  most  excellent  examples  of  the  portrait  work  of 
perhaps  the  Hellenistic  period.  They  rank  nearly 
with  'the  celebrated  Sophocles  in  the  Lateran 
Museum.  Poseidippus,  the  Athenian  dramatist  of 
the  "  new  comedy,"  flourished  in  the  early  part  of 
the' third  century  B.C.  The  preservation  of  the 
statue  is  extraordinary.  There  is  nothing  modern 
about  it  except  the  thumb  of  the  left  hand.  It  pro^ 
duces  strongly  the  impression  of  being  an  original 


HEAD    OF    AUGUSTUS 
In  the  Sala  dei  Busti 


Zbc  Sculpture  Gallertes  295 

work,  and  also  of  being  a  speaking  likeness.  It 
may  have  been  modelled  in  the  actual  presence  of 
the  subject,  but  in  that  case  the  name  on  the  front 
of  the  plinth  was  doubtless  inscribed  later,  when  the 
igure  was  removed  from  its  pedestal  and  taken  to 
Rome.  He  is  shown  clean  shaven,  according  to  the 
fashion  of  the  time  of  Alexander.  The  companion 
statue,  Menander,  is  of  equal  merit.  The  two  men 
are  strongly  contrasted  in  features,  expression,  and 
bodily  carriage.  Both  show,  as  do  many  others  of 
the  same  period,  that  no  idea  of  the  actual  appearance 
of  the  Greeks  can  be  gained  from  the  purely  ideal 
creations  of  Greek  sculpture. 

Alkibiades  in  the  Sala  della  Biga  is,  according  to 
Furtwangler,  badly  restored.  The  whole  of  the 
right  leg,  the  left  leg  from  the  knee,  right  arm  from 
shoulder,  and  left  arm  from  above  elbow,  —  all  are 
added,  and  all,  claims  the  archaeologist,  wrongly. 
He  stands  with  his  foot  on  his  helmet,  he  himself 
resting  upon  a  tree-stump,  his  right  hand  placed  on 
the  upper  part  of  his  bent  right  leg,  with  his  left 
arm  held  out  from  his  body  and  slightly  back.  Furt- 
wangler puts  the  whole  figure  on  a  run  —  with  the 
right  arm  held  forward  and  the  left  somewhat  back, 
both  hands  loosely  closed.  He  also  claims  that  there 
is  not  a  work  in  all  the  fifth  century  art  with  which 
this  statue  is  more  closely  connected  than  with  the 
creations  known  to  be  by  Kresilas,  —  he  who  com- 


296  TTbe  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

peted  with  Phidias  and  Polycleitus  for  the  Amazon. 
Furtwangler  goes  on  to  say  that  he  considers  it  a 
portrait  statue  of  a  winner  of  noted  races.  The 
original  was  of  course  in  bronze  and  executed 
probably  about  440. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the  statues  of  Roman 
times  that  have  come  down  to  us  is  that  of  Augustus, 
found  in  1863,  in  Lavia's  Villa  on  the  Via  Flaminia, 
near  Prima  Porta,  and  now  in  the  Braccio  Nuovo. 
It  wtas  without  much  doubt  done  soon  after  the 
emperor's  triumphant  return  from  the  north.  The 
statue  was  broken  when  discovered,  but  only  a: 
finger,  a  bit  of  one  ear,  and  its  sceptre  were  lost. 
There  are  signs,  however,  that  even  in  antiquity  it 
had  been  restored  in  the  right  arm  and  left  leg. 
Originally  it  was  painted  with  purple,  red,  crimson, 
and  blue,  though  now  the  colours  are  only  faintly 
discernible.  They  touched  up  the  finger  rings,  gar- 
ments, hair,  etc.  He  is  standing  with  outstretched 
left  arm,  the  right  bending  the  paludamentum  and 
the  sceptre.  The  attitude  is  lordly,  calmly  majestic, 
and  at  the  same  time  benevolent.  His  cuirass,  with  its 
exquisite  reliefs,  seems  like  the  actual  piece  of  metal. 
His  hair  is  rather  indicated  than  fully  worked  out, 
and  the  pupils  are  cut  into  the  ball.  The  mantle  is 
fine  in  the  general  arrangement,  but  has  the  sharpness 
in  the  finish  of  the  breaks  of  the  folds  characteristic 
of   this   Graeco-Roman   time.     At  his   foot   on  a 


X   III 


XTbe  Sculpture  Galleries  299 

dolphin  rides  a  Cupid.  Perhaps  that  was  meant  to 
indicate  the  emperor's  descent  from  Venus,  but  it 
was  needed,  technically,  for  a  support  for  the  marble. 
It  is  much  inferior  in  workmanship  to  the  statue 
itself. 

The  Sala  della  Biga  is  so  named  from  the  Biga 
or  two-wheeled  chariot  which  stands  there  on  a 
base  of  verde  antique.  The  chariot  is  marvellously 
beautiful,  of  a  marble  most  richly  ornamented  in 
reliefs.  It  is  supposed  to  have  stood  in  a  temple 
dedicated  to  the  Sun  God.  The  bronze  reins,  the 
wheels,  left  horse,  and  portions  of  the  right  are 
restorations  made  by  Frangoni  under  the  orders  of 
Pius  VI.,  and  the  effect  of  the  whole  with  the  spirited 
animals  and  the  rich  trappings  is  gorgeously  impres- 
sive. The  chariot  was  for  a  long  time  used  for  an 
episcopal  chair  in  the  choir  of  St.  Mark's. 

While  the  treasures  of  the  Vatican  were  reposing 
in  the  Louvre,  Canova  was  called  upon  both  to 
restore  many  broken  marbles  that  were  being  un- 
earthed and  to  create  new  works.  It  was  to  him  that 
was  largely  due  the  reviving  of  the  love  for  the 
classic.  Three  of  his  most  noted  sculptures  are  in 
the  Cortile  in  the  Gabinetto  di  Canova.  Sincere, 
earnest,  with  a  strongly  marked  idealistic  tempera- 
ment, he  could  love  the  antique,  but  to  produce  any 
such  masterpieces  was  far  beyond  his  powers.  The 
futility  of  the  modern  attempt  is  never  more  glar- 


300  XTbe  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

ingly  shown  than  here  among  the  great  examples  of 
the  old  days.  Even  the  poorest  stage  of  Greek  art 
never  descended  to  such  theatric  effects  as  are  seen 
in  his  Perseus  or  the  two  boxers,  who  with  their 
softly  modelled  muscles  and  overdone  movements 
are  far  removed  from  the  mighty  athletes  of  the 
Greeks. 

Perseus  stands  with  his  left  foot  far  in  advance  of 
the  right,  his  head  turned  in  the  same  direction,  while 
his  left  hand  holds  out  the  Gorgon's  head.  His 
right  grasps  the  blade  that  has  done  the  deadly 
work.  Somehow,  in  spite  of  an  undoubted  faultless- 
ness  of  line  and  proportion  in  this  dainty,  almost 
effeminate  hero,  there  is  little  more  than  a  picture  of 
a  drawing-room  page.  The  age  of  Bernini  is  too 
apparent  in  this  as  in  the  Boxers,  Kreugas  and 
Damoxenos.  The  story  of  these  pugilists  is  that 
Damoxenos  won  in  a  final  contest  between  them  by 
an  unlawful,  cowardly  attack,  striking  Kreugas  in 
the  peritoneum  with  the  extended  fingers  of  his  right 
hand,  and  so  tearing  out  his  entrails.  Canova  has 
markedly  shown  the  animal  nature  of  Damoxenos, 
not  only  in  his  face  but  in  his  whole  build  and  posi- 
tion. Neither  head,  however,  betrays  much  but  a 
bulldog  determination.  Unfortunately,  the  big  round 
muscles  of  the  two  fighters  have  a  soft  flabbiness 
entirely  at  variance  with  their  profession. 

A  word  at  least  should  be  said  of  the  Galleria 


Ube  Sculpture  6allcdC5  301 

degli  Animali.  It  contains  a  unique  collection  of 
domestic  and  wild  animals,  the  work  of  ancient 
Greek  and  Roman  sculptors.  They  are  made  of  all 
kinds  of  coloured  stones  and  marbles,  —  oriental  ala- 
baster, rosso  and  verde  antico,  breccia,  Egyptian 
granite,  porphyry,  and  paonozzo.  "  Their  connec- 
tion with  older  religions  surrounds  them  with  a 
certain  traditional  dignity,  and  these  enigmas  of 
creation,  in  which  the  propensities  of  superstition 
discovered  a  mystic  language  intelligible  only  to 
the  initiate,  become  objects  almost  of  wondering 
curiosity  as  handed  to  us,  through  centuries,  thus 
immortalised  and  beautified  by  art." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE    PINACOTECA 

Until  after  the  peace  of  Tolentino*  there  was  no 
real  picture-gallery  in  the  Vatican.  When  the 
treasures  Napoleon  had  filched  during  his  years  of 
triumph  were  once  more  returned  to  the  papal  states, 
Pius  VII.  retained  in  Rome  many  of  the  paintings 
that  before  their  pilgrimage  to  France  had  belonged 
to  various  churches  and  monasteries  in  Italy.  The 
collection,  compared  with  most  of  the  picture-gal- 
leries of  Europe,  is  small,  and  with  a  very  few 
exceptions  of  minor  importance. 

Among  the  exceptions,  however,  are  some  master- 
pieces of  the  Italian  Renaissance,  one  of  them  the 
work  that  for  generations  has  been  called  the  greatest 
picture  in  the  world.  Raphael's  Transfiguration 
occupies,  with  his  Madonna  di  Foligno  and  the  St. 
Jerome  of  Domenichino,  one  of  the  four  rooms  of  the 
Pinacoteca.  The  very  last  work  achieved  by  the 
genius  of  Urbino,  there  is  still  doubt  as  to  whether 
the  Transfiguration  was  actually  finished  when 
Raphaeldied.    Vasari  states  decidedly  that  it  was, 

302 


Ubc  iptnacoteca  303 

and  that  it  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the  painter's 
bier.  At  all  events  it  is  absolutely  sure  that  Giulio 
Romano  is  responsible  for  parts  of  the  picture. 
It  is  known  that  Raphael  intended  to  paint  this 
composition  without  any  assistance.  If  he  adhered 
to  his  determination,  then  Giulio  merely  finished 
what  his  master  left  incomplete.  It  is  probable, 
however,  that  even  in  this  case  the  young  Urbinate 
found  himself  so  pressed  for  time  that  he  was  obliged 
to  fall  back  on  his  right-hand  man,  as  Giulio  had 
long  since  become. 

The  subject  of  the  picture  was  given  to  Raphael 
by  the  Cardinal  de'  Medici,  for  whom  it  was  painted. 
Critics  who  have  found  fault  with  its  double  per- 
spective, its  two  halves,  etc.,  have  apparently  for- 
gotten this  fact.  He  was  obliged  to  illustrate  two 
distinct  incidents  happening  at  the  same  time  but  far 
removed  in  space.  The  parents  of  a  lunatic  boy  carry 
him  to  the  disciples  to  be  cured.  At  the  moment  of 
their  arrival,  on  a  distant  mountain  the  Transfigura- 
tion takes  place  before  Peter,  James,  and  John. 
The  painter,  therefore,  had  to  combine  these  two 
occurrences,  and  it  is  a  carping  critic  who  fails  to 
admit  the  masterliness  with  which  Raphael  has 
accomplished  it. 

The  mount  rises  somewhat  above  the  centre  of 
the  picture.  There,  lying  on  the  ground,  awakened 
by  the  blinding  rays,  the  three  disciples  half  raise 


304  XTbe  Htt  ot  tbe  l[)attcan 

themselves  and  shade  their  faces  from  the  overpower- 
ing brilliancy.  Slightly  above  their  heads,  the  Christ, 
with  wide-reaching  arms,  rises  into  the  heavens.  On 
either  side  of  him  are  Moses  and  Elias.  Below, 
partly  in  the  shadow  of  the  mount,  are  the  remaining 
disciples,  a  kneeling  woman,  and  the  crazed  boy,  who 
with  starting  eyeballs  and  open  mouth  is  in  a 
frenzy.  He  is  held  by  his  father  and  mother,  whose 
grief-stricken  faces  tell  how  much  they  had  counted 
upon  the  assistance  of  the  vanished  Saviour.  The. 
connection  between  the  two  divisions  is  made  by 
the  significant  gestures  of  the  apostles  as  they  point 
to  the  mount.  It  is  claimed  that  to  Giulio  Romano  is 
due  the  concourse  of  people  at  the  base  of  the  moun- 
tain. The  figures,  however,  were  undoubtedly 
designed  and  grouped  by  his  master.  And  in  spite 
of  some  disagreeable  colour  and  theatric  massing 
of  light  and  shade,  many  of  them  are  wonderfully 
expressive.  The  woman  kneeling  in  tHe  immediate 
foreground  is  a  noticeable  example.  It  is  only 
Raphael's  genius  that  has  saved  her  from  the 
commonplace.  She  is  not  distinguished  in  face  or 
form.  Yet  the  poise  of  the  figure,  the  twist  of  the 
torso,  are  so  full  of  verve  and  movement  that  she 
stays  in  one's  memory  with  a  keenness  like  that  pro- 
duced by  life  itself.  The  apostles  on  the  left,  two 
pointing  to  the  mount,  others  looking  at  the  demented 
boy,  and  the  man  in  the  foreground,  lifting  his  head 


TRANSFIGURATION 
By  Raphael ;  in  the  Pinacoteca 


XTbe  ptnacoteca  307 

from  poring  over  his  volume,  are  combined  with  a 
charm  and  skill  equal  to  the  kneeling  votaries  in  the 
Disputa.  The  arrangement  of  light  and  shade, 
too,  is  wonderfully  effective.  Above,  on  the  mount, 
it  unquestionably  is  true  that  the  figures  are  over 
large  for  the  perspective  of  the  picture.  By  painting 
all  this  part  in  a  much  higher  key,  Raphael  evidently 
attempted  to  give  it  a  sort  of  fictitious  distance  that 
would  save  the  necessity  of  otherwise  making  the 
figures  so  small  as  to  be  insignificant.  And  for 
centuries  the  world  has  agreed  that  it  is  in  just  this 
upper  half  of  the  picture  where  Raphael's  art  is  seen 
at  its  greatest.  The  transparency  and  purity  of  the 
colours,  the  amazing  effulgence  of  the  light  that 
radiates  from  the  Saviour  and  lingers  over  the 
ground  where  he  had  been  praying,  the  nobility  of 
his  figure,  the  wonderful  fall  of  the  draperies  that 
float  about  him  as  if  caught  by  a  celestial  ether,  and 
finally  the  sublimity  of  the  expression  of  a  face 
beyond  words  beautiful;  —  all  this  and  more  has 
been  claimed  for  it  with  an  utter  abandonment  to 
adjective  and  rhapsody.  Even  one  who  feels  very 
differently  must,  after  such  an  avalanche  of  adora- 
tion, hesitate  to  express  opposing  views.  Neverthe- 
less, a  few  critics  have  of  late  years  ventured  to 
suggest  that,  though  of  undoubtedly  beautiful  parts, 
as  a  whole  the  Transfiguration  is  neither  the  most 
perfect  picture  that  was   ever  painted,   nor  is   it 


3o8  Ube  Brt  of  tbc  IDattcan 

Raphael's  own  masterpiece.  Certainly  from  a  tech- 
nical point  of  view  it  cannot  be  compared  with  the 
Sistine  Madonna;  and  as  certainly,  it  would  seem, 
is  it  below  that  in  its  spiritual  expressiveness.  In 
spite  of  the  nobility  of  Christ,  the  outflung  arms  with 
the  flat  open  palms  do  recall,  as  Taine  said,  the 
gestures  of  a  swimmer^  And  tender,  benign,  and 
soulful  as  is  his  face,  it  lacks  the  mysterious  inner 
strength,  the  hidden,  yet  ever  penetrating  spirit  that 
sees  and  knows  and  feels  and  has  power  to  subdue, 
—  the  spirit  that  is  a  very  part  of  both  the  Mary  and 
the  Babe  of  the  Sistine. 

The  second  of  the  three  treasures  of  this  chamber 
was  painted  more  than  ten  years  before  the  Trans- 
figuration. Sigismondo  Conti,  chamberlain  for 
Julius  11. ,  ordered  the  Madonna  di  Foligno  about 
the  time  when  Raphael  was  working  in  the  Camera 
deir  Eliodoro.  Conti  wished  to  commemorate  his 
escape  from  a  meteor  during  the  siege  of  Foligno, 
an  escape  he  credited  to  the  intervention  of  Heaven 
itself.  The  picture  shows  him  in  his  red  mantle 
and  cape  with  fur  linings,  kneeling  in  the  foreground 
of  a  landscape  while  the  bolt  is  whirling  across  the 
sky.  The  mantle  allowls  the  full  play  of  his  arms, 
which  are  sleeved  in  brown.  His  face,  thin,  worn,  is 
lifted  in  profile  to  the  heavens,  while  Jerome,  accom- 
panied by  his  lion,  rests  his  hand  on  the  chamber- 
lain's head.    Jerome's  gesture,  as  he  calls  the  atten- 


MADONNA    DI    FOLIGNO 
By  Raphael ;  in  the  Pinacotec? 


Ube  IPtnacoteca  311 

tion  of  Heaven  to  his  charge,  is  full  of  dignity  and 
a  concentration  that  finds  its  strongest  expression  in 
his  deep-set,  piercing  eyes.  The  vision  above,  to 
which  they  are  both  appealing,  is  that  of  Mary  seated 
on  the  clouds  in  the  centre  of  a  circle  of  golden  light. 
All  about  her  swarm  cherubs  and  angels,  who  seem 
partly  to  uphold  her  throne  of  clouds.  Upon  her 
right  knee  stands  Jesus,  whom  his  mother  steadies 
by  one  hand  on  his  shoulder,  while  with  the  other  she 
grasps  the  muslin  about  his  waist.  He  bends  one 
arm  across  his  breast,  and  with  the  other  clutches 
with  all  ten  fingers  his  mother's  robe,  his  head  at 
the  same  time  turning  toward  the  suppliants  on 
the  earth  below.  Perhaps  the  most  exquisite  bit 
of  painting  in  the  whole  picture  is  that  of  the  winged 
boy  who  stands  holding  a  tablet  near  the  kneeling 
Conti.  His  attitude  is  that  of  perfect  repose,  as 
graceful  as  it  is  natural.  He  it  is  that  makes  the 
connecting  link  between  the  group  in  the  sky  with 
the  churchman  on  the  one  side  and  St.  Francis  on 
his  knees  on  the  other,  with  the  Baptist  beyond  him, 
erect  in  his  tunic  of  skins.  He  has  the  grandeur  of 
head,  the  full,  perfect  modelling  of  limbs,  the  bril- 
liant rendering  of  flesh,  the  subtile  play  of  light  and 
shade,  characteristic  of  Raphael  in  his  best  moments. 
The  treatment  of  the  landscape  and  the  figures  of  the 
Baptist  and  the  Friar  indicate  that  here  he  was 
perhaps  assisted  by  Dossi.    At  any  rate,  they  have 


312  ube  Htt  of  tbe  IDatican 

not  the  breadth,  the  power,  the  full  command  of 
his  highest  powers  that  mark  the  rest  of  the  picture. 
Popular  opinion  has  placed  Domenichino's  Last 
Communion  of  St.  Jerome  second  to  the  Trans- 
figuration alone  in  the  Vatican  collection.  At  the 
foot  of  the  altar  at  the  right  is  the  emaciated  and 
almost  nude  figure  of  the  saint.  He  is  supported 
by  a  young  man,  and  is  so  near  death  that  it  is  only 
with  great  difficulty  that  he  can  take  the  bread  from 
the  Pope,  who,  himself  an  old  man,  is  bending  far 
down  toward  him.  On  the  left  of  the  Pope  kneels 
a  young  deacon  with  a  green  stola  crossing  from 
shoulders  to  hips.  His  head  is  turned  in  profile, 
and  is  mostly  in  deep  shadow,  only  his  white  robe 
coming  out  sharply  into  the  light.  Behind  him  is 
another,  a  man  in  a  gold-flowered  red  dalmatia,  hold- 
ing out  in  his  right  hand  the  chalice.  Other  figures 
are  near  the  saint,  one  an  old  man  weeping,  while  an 
old  woman  leans  forward  to  kiss  his  withered  arm. 
In  the  left-hand  corner  is  the  lion,  his  head  upon 
his  paws,  apparently  as  full  of  grief  as  the  human 
beings  about  him.  Above  in  the  air  four  little 
angels  are  fl)ang,  and  through  the  arch  behind  the 
altar  a  landscape  of  trees,  river,  and  houses  is  seen. 
The  individual  heads  here  are  wonderfully  finely  dis- 
criminated. The  colour  is  rich  and  deep,  the  dra- 
peries well  studied,  the  massing  firm  and  restrained. 
The  saint  is  a  finely  characterised  nude,  and  the 


|K|^^K 

LAST    COMMUNION    OF    ST.    JEROME 
By  Domenichino ;  in  the  Pinacoteca 


ttftc  pfnacotcca  3«5 

young  fair-haired  deacon  a  beautiful,  graceful  figure. 
Altogether  it  is  a  work  much  ahead  of  most  of  those 
of  the  days  of  the  decadence,  and  brings  back  fleeting 
memories  of  the  halcyon  times  of  Raphael. 

Less  popular  but  of  far  greater  beauty  than  the 
St.  Jerome  is  the  Madonna  of  San  Niccolo  de* 
Frari  by  Titian.  The  lack  of  appreciation  of  this 
glorious  picture  was  early  shown  by  a  most  aston- 
ishing act  of  vandalism  committed  against  it.  Origi- 
nally it  was  an  arched  panel.  This  arched  part  has 
been  entirely  cut  off,  and  the  dove  which  was  shed- 
ding its  rays  upon  the  head  of  Mary  is  gone.  Below 
this  height,  but  still  in  the  clouds,  sits  the  Madonna, 
holding  the  Child  in  her  lap.  He  is  lifting  a  wreath 
while  he  looks  down,  as  if  he  were  about  to  drop  it 
into  the  company  below.  Two  charming  little  angels 
on  each  side  of  Mother  and  Babe  are  also  holding 
wreaths.  Below,  within  a  curving,  roofless  temple 
are  six  saints.  On  the  right  St.  Sebastian,  his  hands 
bound  behind  him  and  his  body  stuck  all  over  with 
the  arrows  that  do  not  change  his  serene  expression. 
At  the  extreme  left  is  St.  Catherine  Martyr,  and  next 
to  her  St.  Nicholas  in  a  magnificent  golden  robe 
with  book  and  crozier.  Between  these  are  St.  Peter 
carrying  the  keys  and  St.  Francis  and  St.  Anthony 
of  Padua. 

Here  is  all  the  Florentines  ever  got,  and  infinite 
else  besides.     No  more  admirable  presentation  of 


3i6  XTbe  Hrt  ot  tbe  Dattcan 

the  nude  human  body  than  that  of  St.  Sebastian  can 
be  imagined.  As  Vasari  rather  grudgingly  remarks, 
it  does  not  seem  to  be  paint,  but  actual  flesh  itself. 
If  there  is  no  attempt  made  at  a  careful  specialisation 
of  type,  if  there  is  no  great  refinement  in  bodily 
forms,  at  least  one  has  every  reason  to  believe  it  was 
exactly  what  the  Venetian  tried  to  produce,  —  living, 
pulsing  flesh.  And  even  to-day,  begrimed  and  var- 
nished and  retouched  as  it  most  unfortunately  is,  the 
marvel  of  those  delicate  tones  melting  imperceptibly 
into  one  another,  the  glow  and  texture  of  the  velvety 
surface  still  show  what  it  must  have  been  in  its 
best  estate.  As  wonderful  in  its  own  way  is  the 
golden  brocade  of  St.  Nicholas.  The  very  woof 
and  web,  the  uneven  roughness,  the  shine  of  the 
under  golden  threads,  all  is  such  a  presentation  of 
texture  as  can  only  be  felt  in  the  very  cloth  itself. 
Not  less  consummate  are  the  expressions  of  the  dif- 
ferent faces,  the  attitudes  of  the  individuals,  the 
grouping  of  the  whole  and  the  scheme  of  chiaroscuro. 
And  finally,  when  the  dove  was  there  to  keep  the 
upper  part  in  its  right  relation,  the  balance  of  the 
whole  as  a  composition  must  have  been  perfect. 

In  the  group  above  there  is  such  a  wealth  of 
beauties  that  it  seems  as  if  no  side  of  the  painters' 
art  but  was  presented  in  all  its  power.  Colour,  — 
brilliant,  tender,  subtile ;  drawing,  —  graceful,  every 
line  full  of  life  and  movement,  showing  absolute  com- 


Ube  iptnacoteca  3^7 

mand  over  every  curve  and  joining;  spacing  and 
massing,  —  full  of  rhythmic  charm  and  superb  bal- 
ance; and  last,  a  sentiment  of  tenderness  as  penetrat- 
ing as  a  lily's  perfume.  The  glow  of  the  child's  flesh, 
the  modelling  of  the  softly  rounded  planes,  the 
golden  tone  over  all,  has  never  been  surpassed  by 
Oorreggio,  and  here  besides  there  is  less  the  feeling 
of  evident  attempt.  The  Mother,  bending  over  him, 
and  looking  below,  is  largely  in  shadow,  the  light 
striking  her  in  a  subdued  glimmer  on  brow  and  nose. 
If  she  has  not  the  depth  of  grandeur  of  the  Madonna 
di  San  Sisto,  she  is  far  removed  from  the  merely 
sweetly  gentle  faces  that  even  Raphael  was  content 
to  give  most  of  his  girl-mothers.  There  is  a  nobility 
of  brow,  a  tender  thoughtfulness  in  the  shadowed 
eyes,  a  pensive  strength  in  the  curving  lips,  and  a 
calm  grace  in  the  whole  figure  that  properly  place 
her  where  she  is,  above  the  world  with  the  Holy 
Child  within  her  arms.  The  scheme  of  colour  below 
is,  as  it  could  not  help  being  under  Titian's  brush,  a 
symphony  whose  richness  never  degenerates  to  riot- 
ousness.  The  glowing  flesh  of  St.  Sebastian  is 
answered  by  the  brown  frocks  of  the  Franciscans, 
those  in  turn  illuminated  by  the  golden  tones  of  St. 
Nicholas's  brocade.  The  gloom  of  the  shadowed 
niche  is  further  relieved  by  the  yellow  robe  of  Peter 
and  the  crimson  dress  of  Catherine.  If  the  Roman 
public  did  not  wholly  realise  the  rare  worth  of  this 


3i8  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDatican 

picture,  the  painter  himself  had  a  great  fondness  for 
it ;  he  even  drew  a  copy  of  it  on  wood  with  his  own 
hands.  St.  Nicholas  is  supposed  to  be  inspired  by  the 
Laocoon,  a  cast  of  a  copy  of  which  by  Sansovino 
Titian  aliways  kept  in  his  studio. 

Besides  the  two  already  spoken  of,  there  are  in 
the  Vatican  several  other  pictures  by  Raphael.  The 
Resurrection  of  Christ  dates  from  his  student  days 
with  Perugino,  and  indeed  it  is  supposed  to  be  a 
joint  production  of  the  two.  To  Perugino  is  given 
the  credit  of  the  general  composition,  to  Raphael 
most  of  the  execution.  The  two  angels  above  on 
each  side  of  the  Lord  are  in  Perugino's  well-known 
style.  They  have  apparently  just  flown  to  the  posi- 
tions they  occupy,  and,  standing  on  one  foot  with 
the  other  extended,  have  their  hands  clasped  and 
heads  bent.  Christ  is  rising  out  of  the  tomb  within 
a  rainbow-toned  ellipse.  The  sleeping  soldier  is 
thought  to  be  a  portrait  of  Raphael,  and  the  one 
running  away  is  called  Perugino.  Altogether  the 
picture  has  the  defects  of  Perugino,  a  "  want  of 
ponderation  and  too  great  distance  between  the 
figures,  though  the  fullness  of  the  forms  and  the 
grace  to  be  seen  in  persons  is  characteristic  of 
Raphael." 

The  Coronation  of  the  Virgin  was  executed  proba- 
bly in  1503.  The  scene  is  built  in  two  parts,  the 
lower  consisting  of  the  apostles  gathered  about  the 


MADONNA    DI    FRARI 
By  Titian  ;  in  the  Pinacoteca 


XTbe  plnacoteca  321 

empty  tomb  of  Christ,  within  which  flowers  are 
springing.  In  the  upper  portion,  Christ,  seated  on 
clouds,  a  glory  of  angels  about  him,  is  placing  a 
crown  upon  his  mother's  head.  Some  of  the  apostles 
below  apparently  see  this  group  in  the  heavens. 
Their  searching  gaze  is  all  that  serves  to  connect  the 
two  parts.  It  would  have  been  impossible  for  a 
young  man  in  Perugino's  workshop  to  be  able  fully 
to  express  twelve  varying  emotions  on  as  many 
faces  of  different  ages.  Some  of  the  disciples,  there- 
fore, show  but  slightly  the  astonishment  they  are 
supposed  to  feel.  Their  position  and  grouping,  too, 
are  somewhat  perfunctory,  with  less  ease  and  har- 
mony than  the  later  Raphael  would  have  given  them. 
Nevertheless,  there  are  very  beautiful  faces  and  indi- 
viduals, and  the  figures  of  Mary  and  Christ  are 
remarkable  for  their  pure  and  rounded  beauty.  The 
angels  about  the  throne  are  lovely  enough  for  Botti- 
celli himself.  The  one  beneath  Christ,  his  head  lifted 
with  a  certain  indefinable  melancholy,  is  much  like 
one  in  the  Sistine  Madonna. 

The  predella  which  was  once  under  this  picture 
represents  the  Annunciation,  the  Adoration  of  the 
Magi,  and  the  Presentation  in  the  Temple.  Already, 
though  painted  when  Raphael  was  a  mere  lad,  the 
art  of  the  boy  was  strongly  apparent.  The  Annun- 
ciation shows  Mary  sitting  on  one  side  of  a  portico 
supported  by  Corinthian  columns.    She  has  her  head 


322  Ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

bent,  and  is  sweet  and  thoughtful  in  expression.  On 
the  other  side  the  angel  comes  toward  her  so  swiftly 
and  eagerly  as  scarcely  to  touch  the  floor.  In  the 
sky,  seen  through  the  arch,  is  God  the  Father  sending 
down  his  messenger. 

In  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi,  behind  the  mon- 
archs,  are  the  shepherds  with  a  lamb.  Thus  he  com- 
bined in  one  scene  the  subjects  always  before  made 
into  two  pictures. 

In  the  Presentation  in  the  Temple  there  is  an  archi- 
tectural background  of  the  Ionic  order.  Simeon 
takes  the  child  most  tenderly  from  Mary,  but  the 
baby  is  afraid,  and  turns  to  his  mother,  holding  out 
his  hands  appealingly,  and  giving  a  touch  of  nature 
that  was  seldom  attempted  before. 

Perugino,  the  man  under  whose  direction  it  is 
supposed  that  these  works  were  accomplished,  has 
several  pictures  of  his  own  in  the  Pinacoteca. 

His  Three  Saints  is  only  a  small  part  of  a  large 
painting  that  originally  was  over  the  high  altar  in  a 
church  in  Perugia.  There  were  pictures  of  five 
other  saints,  and  the  central  part  of  the  painting  was 
an  Assumption  now  in  the  Museum  at  Lyons.  The 
lunette  is  in  the  Museum  of  St.  Germain  d'Auxer- 
rois.  It  was  painted  in  1495,  and  it  is  reported  that 
he  received  five  hundred  ducats  in  gold  for  it. 
Vasari  calls  it  the  best  painting  Perugino  ever  did 
in  Perugia.    It  was  already  divided  into  pieces  before 


Ubc  Ipinacoteca  323 

the  seizure  by  the  French,  and  the  Pope  left  the 
Ascension  in  Lyons  as  a  memento  of  his  gratitude 
for  the  devotion  shown  him  by  that  city. 

The  Three  Saints  now  in  the  Pinacoteca  are  St. 
Benedict  looking  down,  while  St.  Fl'avia  and  St. 
Placida  with  hands  joined  in  prayer  gaze  heaven- 
wards. There  is  in  all  of  these  much  of  the  delicate 
sweetness  and  pure  line  of  Perugino,  but  they  are 
far  from  his  highest  achievement. 

His  Madonna  Enthroned  shows  a  very  sweet  and 
lovely  maiden,  seated  on  a  heavy  throne  with  a 
curving  canopy  under  an  archway.  The  Child  stands 
on  her  knee,  one  hand  tucked  into  the  folds  of  her 
bodice.  On  each  side  stand  two  patron  saints 
of  Perugia :  St.  Lawrence,  St.  Ludovick  of  Tolosa, 
St.  Herculanus,  and  St.  Constanitius.  There  is  much 
expression  in  the  saints'  faces,  and  the  picture  is 
noted  for  its  transparency  of  colour.  It  was  painted 
for  the  chapel  of  the  Palazzo  Communale  in  Perugia, 
and  went  to  Paris  in  1797. 

Lo  Spagna,  as  Giovanni  di  Pietro  is  called,  was 
the  most  noted  of  Perugino's  scholars  after  Raphael. 
He  kept  pretty  closely  to  the  Peruginesque  ideals, 
although  in  places  he  approaches  Raphael's  manner. 
His  Adoration  of  the  Magi  in  the  Vatican  is  one 
of  his  early  pictures,  and  has  been  variously  assigned 
to  Pinturicchio,  Perugino,  and  even  to  Raphael.  It 
is  full  of  the  Peruginesque  delicacy  and  sweetness  of 


324  Ube  Htt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

expression,  and  has  a  sort  of  superearthly  grace.  On 
the  ground  in  front  lies  the  Holy  Babe  on  a  piece 
of  cloth  rolled  up  under  his  head  like  a  pillow.  At 
the  right  kneels  Mary,  at  the  left  behind  his  head, 
Joseph,  and  with  them  are  three  angels.  These  five 
figures  are  really  exquisite.  Mary's  tender  homage 
that  yet  carries  the  mother-ownership,  is  very  beau- 
tiful, and  the  gauzy,  transparent  veiling  falling  about 
her  head  emphasises  her  own  flower-like  beauty.  St. 
Joseph  has  a  fine  head,  too,  full  of  thought  and 
showing  the  years  of  work  behind  him.  Each  of 
the  three  angels  in  their  varying  attitudes  is  a 
charming  picture  of  celestial  grace.  Above  their 
heads  in  the  sky  are  three  others  holding  the  scroll 
bearing  the  good  tidings  to  man.  Raphael  has 
hardly  done  lovelier  angelic  beings.  Advancing 
toward  the  Holy  Family,  still  in  the  middle  distance, 
is  the  company  of  the  Magi.  A  corner  of  the  shed 
showing  the  cow  and  ass  is  on  one  side  between 
them  and  the  mother.  The  colour  is  fresh  and  clear 
and  transparent,  the  feeling  throughout  the  whole  is 
one  of  idyllic  tenderness. 

The  Virgin  Enthroned  with  Two  Saints,  by  Fra 
Angelico,  has  some  of  the  characteristic  and  lovely 
attributes  of  this  painter.  The  Virgin  sits  holding 
the  Child  on  her  arm,  with  a  white  rose  in  her  other 
hand.  The  Child's  little  body  is  a  trifle  archaic  and 
woodeny  in  construction,  but  it  has  the  naive  grace 


Zbc  ptnacoteca  325 

and  inncxrence  always  found  in  Fra  Angelico.  The 
Madonna  herself  is  sweetly  contemplative,  while 
the  Child  caresses  her  cheek.  Seraphim,  with  flames 
coming  from  their  fair  heads  and  robed  in  blue  and 
rose-coloured  tunics  ornamented  with  gold,  are  hov- 
ering round  them.  At  the  foot  of  the  throne  are  St. 
Dominic  with  the  lily  and  St.  Catherine.  These  are 
frankly  out  of  proportion,  being  much  too  small 
for  the  prominent  place  they  fill.  The  background  is 
of  gold. 

The  fresco  by  Melozzo  da  Forli,  which  once  orna- 
mented the  library  of  Sixtus  IV.,  was,  to  its  great 
harm,  transferred  to  canvas,  and  now  hangs  in  a 
dark  place  between  windows  in  the  Pinacoteca.  It 
is  called  Platina  before  Sixtus  IV.  On  a  stately 
chair  at  the  right  sits  the  Pope,  in  profile.  In  front 
kneels  Platina,  and  here  one  feels  that  the  keen  face 
with  its  heavy  hair,  its  firmly  marked  chin  and  nose, 
must  have  been  an  excellent  portrait.  By  the  side 
of  the  Pope  are  his  nephew  Giuliano,  and  Rafaello, 
son  of  Antonio  Sansoni,  and  Violante  Riario.  Be- 
hind Platina  are  Giovanni  della  Rovere,  Pope  in 
1475,  and  Girolamo  Riario.  The  fine  spacing  of 
figures,  careful  drawing,  graceful  architecture,  all 
make  this  a  very  excellent  work. 

Another  Coronation  of  the  Virgin  is  by  Pinturic- 
chio.  In  front  of  an  ellipse  of  golden  rays  studded 
with  gems,  Christ  is  placing  a  crown  on  the  head 


326  tTbe  Hrt  of  tbe  Dattcan 

of  the  kneeling  Mary.  On  each  side  is  a  lovely  angel 
carrying  a  musical  instrument,  their  robes  blowing  in 
the  wind.  Below  are  twelve  apostles,  and  St.  Ber- 
nardin,  St.  Francis,  St.  Anthony  of  Padua,  St.  Louis 
of  Tolosa,  and  St.  Bonaventura.  The  figures  of  this 
composition  are  full  of  interest,  and  are  youthful  in 
shape,  but  have  lost  their  transparent  colouring,  and 
have  been  sadly  hurt  by  bad  varnish.  Here  and 
there  on  the  mountains  of  the  landscape-background 
are  groups  of  sportsmen.  The  upper  part  is  a  fine 
example  of  Pinturicchio.  The  lower  is  said  not  to 
be  his  work. 

The  Madonna  of  the  Monteluce  is  by  Raphael's 
two  noted  pupils,  Giulio  Romiano  and  Francesco 
Penni.  In  the  upper  part  is  Christ  crowning  Mary, 
and  in  the  lower  are  the  disciples  grouped  round  her 
tomb,  now  filled  with  flowers.  This  was  done  after 
Raphael's  death,  but  perhaps  somewhat  after  his 
designs.  It  was  a  picture  he  had  promised  the  nuns 
of  Monteluce.  The  Madonna  is  Raphaelesque,  and 
the  figures  below,  though  their  heads  are  in  certain 
ways  like  Perugino,  show  such  violent  action, 
especially  with  their  open  hands,  that  it  is  easy  to  see 
how  these  two  pupils  of  the  Urbinate  were  influenced 
by  Michelangelo,  —  greatly  to  their  own  harm.  The 
upper  part  is  considered  to  be  by  Romano,  the  lower 
by  Penni. 

Cesare  da  Sesto,  who  died  about  1524,  was  late 


XTbe  ptnacoteca  327 

in  his  life  a  friend  of  Raphael.  He  was  an  eclectic 
painter,  sometimes  imitating  Raphael  and  sometimes 
Leonardo,  some  of  his  work  having  been  ascribed  to 
the  latter  painter.  The  Madonna  of  the  Belt  in  the 
Vatican  was  credited  to  Da  Sesto,  but  critics  now 
call  it  merely  a  poor  picture  of  the  late  Lombard- 
Milanese  school.  It  is  a  circular  panel,  the  Madonna 
seated,  with  heavy  clouds  rising  behind  her  like  a 
huge  chair  back.  The  infant  Christ  upon  her  lap  is 
unfolding  the  belt  before  St.  Augustine.  To  the 
right  is  St.  John  the  Evangelist,  with  a  scroll  in 
his  hand.  The  faces  are  small,  pointed,  insignificant, 
with  no  beauty  of  arrangement  in  pose  or  grouping. 

Far  inferior  to  the  Madonna  dei  Frari  is  Titian's 
Doge  Giovanni  Mocenigo.  The  bust  is  life-size, 
turned  in  profile  to  the  left,  on  a  reddish  gray  ground, 
now  spoiled  by  retouching.  With  its  enormous 
pointed  nose  and  very  inadequate  chin,  the  face  is 
too  marked  not  to  have  been  an  excellent  portrait. 
The  eyes  are  small,  sunken  behind  many  wrinkles, 
the  lower  lip  projects  heavily,  as  if  to  make  up  for 
the  retreating  chin  below.  It  came  from  the  Aldo- 
brandi  collection  in  Bologna.  The  face,  right  hand, 
and  background  have  been  all  repainted.  Yet  even 
in  its  present  state  there  are  hints  of  the  warm 
colours  of  the  master.  An  elaborate  brocaded  cloak 
covers  his  fleshy  figure. 

Francesco  Francia's  Virgin,  with  Child  on  her 


328  ube  Hrt  ot  tbe  IDattcan 

lap  and  St.  Joseph  at  one  side,  is  not  one  of  his 
best  known  works,  but  has  the  sweet  piety  of  his 
Madonnas  with  some  of  his  pearly  flesh  tones.  It 
is  said  that  Raphael  declared  that  Francia's  Ma- 
donnas were  the  most  devoutly  beautiful  he  knew. 
Her  large  dark  eyes  and  perfect  brows  in  this  panel 
are  very  lovely  and  fine  in  line. 

There  are  a  number  of  pictures  by  Guercino, 
whose  name  was  Giovanni  Francesco  Barbieri,  sur- 
named  Guercino  da  Cento.  He  was  noted  for  his 
grace,  as  well  as  a  decided  power  and  depth  of  ex- 
pression, with  a  charming  knowledge  and  use  of 
chiaroscuro.  Later  in  life  his  works  became  more 
sentimental  and  thinner.  His  Incredulity  of  St. 
Thomas  in  the  Vatican  is  one  of  his  more  important 
works.  Christ  stands  with  his  robe  pulled  off  his 
left  shoulder  and  chest,  showing  the  wound,  while 
his  left  hand  grasps  a  pole  from  which  the  ends 
of  a  white  flag  float  about  his  head.  St.  Thomas, 
his  head  thrown  into  a  deep  shadow,  except  where 
the  light  strikes  him  sharply  on  the  neck  and  ear, 
leans  forward,  putting  his  finger  into  the  wound  in 
Christ's  side.  Other  disciples  are  behind.  The 
management  of  the  light  and  shade  is  masterly,  the 
chiaroscuro  all  through  most  effective.  The  Sa- 
viour's face,  as  he  stands  in  profile,  is  full  of  beauty, 
not  without  strength.  Infinite  pity  shines  from  his 
eyes  as  he  looks  upon  the  intense,  questioning  face 


XLbc  pinacoteca  329 

of  the  bearded  Thomas,  rugged  in  its  simplicity  and 
honesty.  This  was  one  of  the  few  pictures  already 
in  the  Vatican  before  it  was  taken  to  Paris. 

St.  Margaret  of  Cortona  is  also  by  Guercino. 
She  is  in  the  dress  of  a  Franciscan  nun,  and  kneels 
on  the  altar  steps,  a  halo  about  her  head,  her  eyes 
turned  upwards,  her  hands  clasped.  Above  her  head 
two  angels  are  flying,  pointing  still  higher.  The  pic- 
ture is  not  good,  and  perhaps  not  wholly  by  him. 
Equally  poor  is  the  Bust  of  St.  John,  in  his  later 
style. 

A  very  strong  picture  is  Poussin's  Martyrdom  of 
St.  Erasmus.  The  saint  is  spread  out  nude  upon 
a  log  of  wood.  While  one  executioner  is  disem- 
bowelling him,  another  is  winding  the  intestines 
about  a  mill  as  a  rope.  Beside  the  half-dead  martyr 
is  a  pagan  priest,  pointing  at  the  statue  of  Hercules. 
Behind  him  is  an  armed  captain  on  horseback,  show- 
ing some  horrified  spectators  the  deed  taking  place 
in  front.  St.  Erasmus's  mitre  and  robes  are  on 
the  ground  near  the  block  of  torture.  Above  are 
seen  two  angels  with  the  crown  and  palm  of  victory. 
The  light  is  thrown  sidewise  upon  the  white-robed 
priest,  and  shines  upon  the  chest  and  falling  arms 
of  the  saint.  All  the  rest  is  in  shadow  or  half- 
shadow,  lighted  only  in  the  outlines.  Here  are 
big,  broad  massing,  magnificent  drawing,  freedom 
of  action  and  movement.    The  colour  is  somewhat 


330  zbc  Hrt  of  tbe  IDatican 

thin,  but  the  skilful  chiaroscuro  helped  to  neutralise 
that  fault.  The  saint,  drawn  down  on  the  torture 
rack  with  his  head  bent  far  back,  is  a  very  wonder- 
ful accomplishment. 

Murillo  is  very  poorly  represented,  though  his 
Marriage  of  St.  Catherine  has  some  fresh,  charming 
colour  suggesting  the  Venetian  school.  It  was  given 
to  Pius  IX.  by  Queen  Christine  of  Spain  in  1855. 
The  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds,  though  attributed 
to  him,  is  at  best  only  a  smaller  copy  of  one  in  the 
Museum  of  Seville.  Mary  half  kneels  by  the  cradle, 
from  which  she  partly  lifts  the  baby,  while  she  draws 
away  the  light  covering.  The  shepherds  kneel  about, 
the  light  that  is  focussed  upon  the  holy  pair  reflect- 
ing on  to  the  one  in  front.  Mary  is  sweet  and  lovely, 
but  the  whole  composition  borders  on  the  common- 
place. 

Two  very  attractive  canvases  are  by  Federigo 
Barocci,  though  neither  of  them  represents  him  at 
his  very  best.  One  shows  St.  Michelina  standing 
on  the  Mount  of  Calvary,  her  arms  thrown  forward 
in  ecstasy.  Her  pilgrim's  hat  and  staff  are  on  the 
ground,  her  mantle  is  blown  about  by  the  wind.  It 
was  executed  for  the  Church  of  S.  Francesco,  in 
Pesaro,  where  it  remained  till  1797,  when  it  was 
taken  by  the  French.  Barocci  had  a  tenderness,  an 
idyllic  sweetness  of  manner  without  any  very  great 
depth  of  meaning.    His  colour,  though  pleasing  and 


ANNUNCIATION 
By  Baroccio ;  in  the  Pinacoteca 


XTbe  ptnacoteca  333 

sometimes  extremely  soft  and  harmonious,  is  too  red 
in  the  "  carnations."  His  positions,  too,  are  apt  to 
be  affected,  and  his  sentiment  degenerate  into  senti- 
mentality. 

Escaping  this  last  fault,  yet  not  rising  to  his  very 
highest  achievement,  is  his  delightful  Annunciation, 
not  far  from  the  St.  Michelina.  Mary,  who  is  a 
dainty,  youthful  figure  rather  heavily  draped,  kneels 
at  the  left  of  an  open  window,  through  which  castle 
walls  and  lines  of  a  city  can  be  seen.  In  front  of 
her,  on  one  knee,  is  the  angel  with  the  branch  of 
lilies.  There  is  a  soft  luminosity  to  the  colour  of 
Mary's  face  that  is  perhaps  a  trifle  overemphasised 
by  the  pink  of  her  cheeks.  Very  tender,  however,  are 
the  high  forehead  and  delicate  eyebrows,  with  a 
faint  suggestion  of  Orientalism  about  them.  The 
angel,  though  not  impeccable  in  drawing,  is  a  radiant 
being  with  a  wonderfully  lovely  head  and  neck,  and 
golden  curls  that  lie  tenderly  against  the  soft  model- 
ling of  temple  and  neck. 

Bonifazio  11.  has  a  Holy  Family  which  has  been 
repainted,  but  still  carries  mlany  characteristics  of 
the  Venetian  who  at  his  best  nearly  equalled  Palma 
Vecchio.  Mary,  seated  in  the  middle  of  the  picture, 
is  a  matronly  figure  of  the  rather  florid  Venetian 
type,  with  a  sweet,  not  too  expressive  face.  The 
child  on  her  knees  has  been  repainted  so  much  that 
there  is  little  left  of  the  orig^inal.    At  Mary's  side 


334  Ube  Ect  ot  tbe  IDatican 

is  St.  Elizabeth,  from  whose  basket  she  takes  some 
roses.  The  little  St.  John  is  at  the  extreme  left, 
seated  upon  a  lamb,  and  at  the  right  St.  Joseph  and 
Zacharias  are  conversing.  St.  Elizabeth  is  almost 
as  young,  and  has  a  more  interesting  face  than  Mary. 
The  two  old  men  are  splendidly  done,  their  heads, 
though  almost  identical  in  beard  and  hair,  possess- 
ing an  individuality  as  fine  as  is  the  modelling. 

An  Entombment  by  Amerighi  da  Caravaggio  is 
one  of  his  best  works.  The  figures  are  magnificently 
drawn,  in  striking,  original  grouping,  with  a  colour 
as  glowing  in  the  light  as  it  is  deeply  mysterious  in 
the  voluminous  shadow  which  is  over  most  of  the 
picture.  The  draperies  are  beautifully  indicated, 
and  if  heavy  have  a  fall  of  line  and  mass  almost 
unexcelled.  Christ,  supported  by  Nicodemus  and 
John,  is  being  laid  into  the  tomb,  while  behind  stand 
the  three  Marys.  It  has  been  said  to  resemble  a 
picture  of  the  burial  of  a  gipsy  chief  rather  than 
that  of  the  Christ.  Yet  power,  great  dramatic  feel- 
ing, and  splendid  technique  it  has  in  abundance. 
The  figure  of  Mary,  who  has  wept  herself  tearless, 
has  seldom  been  surpassed  in  its  expression  of  heart- 
wringing  sorrow. 

Not  even  by  a  second-rate  picture  is  Correggio 
represented.  The  Christ  upon  a  Rainbow,  called  his 
in  the  catalogues,  has  been  credited  by  Morelli  to  a 
weak  disciple  of  the  Bolognese  school  of  the  last 


XTbe  pinacotcca  335 

"  decadenza."  The  only  part  of  the  canvas  dis- 
tinctly recalling  Correggio  are  the  four  little  angels 
at  Christ's  feet.  With  their  soft,  luminous  eyes  and 
waving,  golden  curls  they  have  something  of  the 
exquisite  modelling  and  colour  of  the  great  painter. 
The  figure  of  Jesus,  on  the  contrary,  is  almost  fuzzy 
in  its  overmodelling. 

Much  more  satisfactory  is  the  Martyrdom  of  St. 
Lawrence  by  Ribera.  The  saint  is  naked  and  on 
his  knees  before  his  executioners.  Like  all  of 
Ribera's  works,  there  is  here  the  dramatic  intensity 
in  the  forced  contrasts  of  highest  light  and  deepest 
shade.  The  figure  of  the  saint  is  vigorously  drawn 
and  modelled,  the  arm  that  is  grasped  by  one  of  the 
executioners  being  marvellously  real  in  its  straining 
muscle,  with  the  white  flesh  gleaming  against  the 
red  fingers  of  the  torturer's  heavy  hand. 

Veronese's  St.  Elena  is  a  graceful,  attractive 
panel,  with  the  warm,  soft  colours  and  rich  acces- 
sories of  the  Venetian  school.  Really  enchanting  is 
the  little  winged  nude  boy,  who  stands  nearly  back  to 
in  the  right  corner,  bearing  the  cross  of  St.  Elena's 
dream.  The  soft  modulations  in  the  curves  of  his 
tender  little  body  are  almost  equal  to  Correggio. 


THE  END. 


BtbHoorapbie 


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B.  Berenson:  Florentine;  Painters  of  the  Renaissance. 
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C.  Clement  :  Michelangelo,  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  and  Raphael. 
L.  M.  de  Cormenin  :  Histoire  des  Papes. 

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J.  Dennie  :  Rome  of  To-day  and  Yesterday. 
F.  H.  Dyer  :  History  of  the  City  of  Rome. 
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neir  Appartamento  Borgia. 
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S.  R.  Forbes  :  Rambles  in  Rome. 
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337 


338  JSlbliograpb^ 

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XtbUograpbi?  339 

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ViARDOT  :  Les  MerveiUes  de  la  Sculpture. 

Vbnturi  :  The  Vatican  Gallery. 

C.  H.  Wilson  :  Life  and  Works  of  Michelangelo. 

WoLTMANN  AND  WoBRMANN :  The  Painting  of  the  Renais- 
sance. 

Zola:  Romt. 


ITnbei 


Adonis  (See  Apollo  of  the  Gabi- 

netto  delle  Maschere). 
Alberti,  Giovanni,  i8,  41. 
Alcamenes,  260. 
Aldroandi,  258. 
Alexander  VI.,  7,  24,  25,  61,  62, 

71. 
Alexander  XXIII.,  16. 
Alkibiades,  292,  295-296. 
Amazon,  276-280,  296. 
Angelico,     Fra,     17,    19,     175; 

Chapel  of  Nicholas  V.,  19, 

26,  32,  46-60;    Pinacoteca, 

Virgin  Enthroned,  324-325. 
Antinous  of  the  Belvedere  (See 

Mercury). 
Aphrodite  (See  Venus). 
Apollo  Belvedere,   29,  240-245, 

256,  270. 
Apollo  Citharoedos,  282-283. 
Apollo  of  the   Gabinetto   delle 

Maschere,  282. 
Apollo  Sauroctonos,  270-272. 
Apollonios,  250-251. 
Apoxyomenos,  258-259. 
Ariadne  Sleeping,  272-275. 
Arsenal,  41. 

Athena  Giustiniani,  283-284. 
Augustus,  292,  296-299. 

Barbieri,     Giovanni     Francesco 

(See  Guercino  da  Cento). 
Barocci,  Federigo,  330-333. 
Baroccio,  34. 
Bartolommeo,  Fra,  147,  149. 


Belvedere,  2,  5,   23,  24,  25-26, 

220,  237. 
Berenson,  51. 
Bernini,  2,  41,  300. 
Biga,  The,  299. 
Bologna,  Tomaso  Vincidor  da, 

202,  236. 
Boniface  VIII.,  12. 
Bonifazio  II.,  333-334. 
Borgia  Apartments,  21,  24,  25, 

26,  30,  45,  61-90,  lOI. 
Borgia  Tower,  5,  12,  25,  31. 
BotticelU,  65,  86,  87,  92,  93,  94- 

100,  loi,  321. 
Bourbon,  De,  30,  222. 
Boxers,  The,  300. 
Braccio  Nuovo,  43,  237,  238,  258, 

268,  279,  283,  287,  290,  296. 
Bramante,  19,  21,  24,  25,  29,  32, 

33,  38,  42, 106, 109,  no,  152, 

156,  160,  197,  220,  221,  237. 
Bramantino,  26. 
Bregno,  Andrea,  63. 
Brunelleschi,  21. 
Brunn,  260. 
Bryaxis,  282. 

Calixtus  III.,  20. 

Camera     d'Eliodoro,     171-185, 

193'  308. 
Camera  dell'  Incendio,  11,  142, 

143,  185-193. 
Camera  della   Segnatura,   143- 

171,  173,  185,307. 
Canova,  42,  299-300. 


341 


343 


fn&ex 


Caradosso,  24. 

Caravaggio,  Amerighi  d£_,  334. 

Caravaggio,  Polidoro  da,  202. 

Castagno,  Andrea  del,  19,  21. 

Celestine  III.,  12. 

Cento,  Guercino  da,  328-329. 

Chapel  of  Nicholas  V.,  19,  26, 

46-60. 
Clement  VII.,  30,  31-32,   195, 

196,  250. 
Clement  VIII.,  38,  41,  43. 
Clement  XIV.,  42,  237,  268,  279, 

290. 
Colonna,  Otto  (See  Martin  V.). 
Colle,  Raphael  del,  196. 
Conti,  Sigismondo,  308,  311. 
Correggio,  317,  334-335- 
Cosimo,  Piero  di,  108. 
Court  of  St.  Damasus,  2,  5,  6, 

21,  34,  38,  44,  197. 
Court  of  the  Belvedere,  29,  32, 

33»  38,  43.  238,  239,  245. 
Court  of  the  Papagallo,  19,  21. 
Crowe   and    Cavsdcaselle,    155, 

175,  184. 

Daedalos,  265. 

Daughter  of  Niobe,  275-276. 
Delia  Robbia,  21. 
Demosthenes,  292. 
Dionysius,  288. 
Discobolus,  259-262. 
Dolci,  Giovanni  de,  91. 
Domenichino,  302,  312-315. 
Donatello,  21. 
Dossi,  311. 

Egyptian  Museum,  43,  237. 
Ehrle  and  Stevenson,  62,  63. 
Eros,  267-268,  282. 
Etruscan  Museum,  43-44,  237. 
Eugenius  III.,  12. 
Ettgenius  IV.,  17,  i8,  46. 
Euphranor,  283. 
Eutychides,  291. 
Exterior  of  the  Vatican,  1-6. 

Fabriano,  Gentile,  21. 
Fano,  Girolamo  da,  136. 


Faun  (Or  Satyr)  Resting,  268- 

270. 
Fede,  Count,  262,  270. 
Fiesole,  Angelico  da   (See  An- 

gelico,  Fra). 
Fiesole,  Mino  da,  21. 
Foligno,  Bartolommeo  da,  19. 
Fontana,  37,  38. 
Forli,  Melozzo  da,  21,  22,   168, 

325- 
Francesca,  Piero  della,  19. 
Francia,  Francesco,  327-328. 
Frangoni,  299. 
Friindesberg,  30,  31. 
Furtwangler,  238,  243,  249,  271, 

276,  283,  284,  295,  296. 

Gabinetto  delle  Maschere,  239* 

262,  270,  284. 
Gabinetto  di  Canova,  299. 
Gabinetto  Laocoon,  245. 
Gaddi,  Angelo,  14. 
Gaddi,  Giovanni,  14. 
Galleria    degli    Animali,    300- 

301. 
Galleria  degli  Arazzi,  220-236. 
Galleria  dei  Candelabri,  44,  239, 

280,  291. 
Galleria  delle  Statue,  239,  268, 

272,  276,  292. 
Ganymede,  Rape  of,  280-281. 
Ger&me,  251. 
Ghiberti,  21,  204. 
Ghirlandajo,  Domenico,  92,  93, 

106-107,  160,  184. 
Giardino  della  Pigna,  238. 
Giottino,  14. 
Giotto,  160,  223. 
Goethe,  245,  261. 
Gozzoli,  Benozzo,  21,  48,  108. 
Grassis,  Paris  de,  220. 
Gregory  XI.,  15,30. 
Gregory  XIII.,  34-37,  43,  87. 
Gregory  XVI.,  43-44.  237- 
Grimm,  119,  123,  148,  155,  159, 

223,  224,  229. 
Guercino  da  Cento,  328—329. 
Guidi,  Andrea,  43. 


irn&ex 


345 


Sesto,  Cesare  da,  326-327. 

Sforza,  Catherine,  24. 

Sibilla,  Gaspare,  290. 

Siena,  Pastorino  da,  32. 

Signorelli,  26,  93,  loi,  102,  105. 

Silenus  and  the  Infant  Bacchus, 
287-288. 

Simonetti,  42,  239. 

Sista,  Fra,  12. 

Sistine  Chapel,  5,  7,  18,  22,  25, 
29,  3i»  32,  45»  63,  89,  90, 
91-141,  171,  I73»  213,  220, 
23S»  236. 

Sixtus  IV.,  21-22,  25,  29,  30,91, 
94,  96,  100,  107,  109,  325. 

Sixtus  v.,  37,  38,  42,  44,  196. 

Sodoma,  26,  143,  145. 

Stanze  of  Raphael,  5,  7,  19,  25, 
31,  45,  60,  61,  90,  142-196, 
220,  307,  308  (See  also 
under  separate  headings). 

Stephen  II.,  10. 

Stern,  Raphael,  43. 

Symmachus,  8,  9,  10. 

Symonds,  113. 

Taine,  308. 
Tempesta,  37. 
Tenerani,  258. 

Tiber,  Group  of  the,  289,  290. 
Titian,  256,  327,  315-318. 
Tito,  Santo  de,  34. 
Torre  dei  Venti,  34. 
Torso  of    the   Belvedere   (See 
Hercules,  Torso  of). 


Tyche  and  Orontes,  Group  of, 
291. 

Udine,  Giovanni  da,  31,  34,  37, 

44.  63,  177,  201. 
Urban  IV.,  183. 
Urban  V.,  13-15. 
Urban  VI.,  15. 
Urban  VIII.,  41. 

Vaga,  Permo  del,  31,  63,  202, 
217,  218. 

Vasari,  23,  34,  84,  94,  109,  129, 
133,  156,  165,  193,  195,  201, 
213,  221,  223,  302,  316,  322. 

Vatican  Palace  (See  under  sepa- 
rate headings). 

Vedder,  175. 

Venus  Anadyomene,  284. 

Venus,  Crouching,  262-265. 

Venus  of  Cnidus,  265-267,  271. 

Venus  of  Milos,  284. 

Veronese,  335. 

Verrocchio,  21. 

Villa  Belvedere  (See  Belvedere). 

Villa  Pia,  34. 

Viterbe,  Simone  di,  19. 

Volpato,  201. 

Volterra,  Daniele  da,  136. 

Winckelmann,  245,  251,  275. 
William  of  Marseilles,  145. 

Zeus  Otricoli,  281-282,  287. 
Zucchero,  Federigo,  34. 


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